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LIFE  AND   LETTERS  OF  WILLIAM  JOHN  BUTLER 


1888. 


LIFE    AND    LETTERS 


OF 


WILLIAM    JOHN    BUTLER 

LATE  DEAN  OF  LINCOLN 
AND  SOMETIME  VICAR  OF  WANTAGE 


WJTH  PORTRAITS 


d/J.eTO.Kii>r)Toi,  Trfpurfffvovrfs  ev 
Ty  tpyif)  TOV  Kvpiov  ir&vTore, 
eiS6res  dirt  6  K&TTOS  vftuv  OVK 
Zan  Kfvbs  £v  Kvpttp. 


MACMILLAN  AND   CO.,  LIMITED 

NEW  YORK  :  THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY 
1897 

All  rightt  reserved 


OLASUOW  :    PRINTED   AT   THE   UNIVERSITY   TRESS 
BT   ROBERT  MACLEHOSR      AND   CO. 


PREFACE. 

THE  late  Dean  of  Lincoln  was  one  of  those  whose 
lives  seem  especially  to  call  for  some  record.  That 
few  men,  certainly  few  men  as  uncompromising, 
have  ever  won  more  affection  from  their  fellows, 
will  be  acknowledged  by  all  who  were  present  when 
he  was  laid  to  rest  under  the  shadow  of  Lincoln 
Minster,  and  saw  that  vast  building  filled  from  end 
to  end  with  mourners  and  sympathizers,  the  greater 
part  of  them  being  citizens  of  a  city  to  which,  less 
than  nine  years  before,  he  had  come  as  a  total 
stranger.  At  the  same  time,  few  men  who  have 
done  so  much  work  in  their  lives  have  been  less 
known  by  name  to  what  is  called  "  the  general 
public."  On  both  accounts  therefore,  that  those 
who  knew  and  loved  him  might  have  some  per- 
manent memorial  of  him,  and  that  the  record  of  a 
strenuous  life  in  which  Englishmen  even  of  widely 
different  schools  of  thought  cannot  fail  to  find  a 
stimulus,  might  be  made  known  to  many  who  never 
felt  its  direct  influence,  it  was  thought  that  a 
memoir  of  him  might  without  presumption  take 


VI 


PREFACE 


its  place  beside  those  of  other  men  who  did  good 
service  in  the  generation  that,  is  now  passing  away. 

A  few  words  seem  to  be  called  for  in  explanation 
of  the  absence  of  any  author's  name  from  the  title- 
page  of  this  book.  When  it  became  apparent  that 
abundant  materials  for  it  were  forthcoming,  several 
persons,  among  them  some  of  our  approved  writers 
of  clerical  biography,  were  approached,  in  the  hope 
of  securing  adequate  literary  treatment  for  a  narra- 
tive which  was  felt  to  be  not  unworthy  of  a  capable 
hand.  For  one  reason  however  or  another  none  of 
those  before  whom  the  proposal  was  laid  found 
himself  at  liberty  to  undertake  the  task ;  and  it 
was  resolved  to  try  what  could  be  done  by  the 
method  of  pretty  wide  co-operation.  Various  friends 
with  whom  in  his  life  of  many  activities  he  had 
come  in  contact,  responded  most  kindly  to  the 
suggestion  that  they  should  write  down  such  re- 
collections of  him  as  were  most  vivid  in  their 
minds ;  and  these,  together  with  selections  from 
his  correspondence,  were  arranged,  with  just  so 
much  of  connecting  matter  as  was  needed  to  give 
unity  to  the  book,  by  a  member  of  his  family, 
aided  by  one  of  the  Cathedral  staff  with  whom  he 
had  been  in  constant  intercourse.  To  the  friends 
in  question  are  due  the  warmest  thanks  of  those 
by  whom  the  memory  of  William  Butler  is  most 
•cherished.  The  greater  part  of  them  will  be  found 
named  in  connexion  with  their  contributions  ;  but 
besides  these  the  names  of  Rev.  H.  H.  Woodward, 
O.  H.  Drew,  Esq.,  Miss  Alice  Ottley,  Mrs.  Arthur 


PREFACE  vii 

Baker,  and  E.  M.  Hutton  Riddell,  Esq.,  may  be 
mentioned.  Thanks  are  also  due  to  the  representa- 
tives of  Mr.  Keble,  Canon  Liddon,  Cardinal  Manning, 
Bishop  Wilberforce,  and  others,  for  permission  to 
publish  letters  written  by  them. 

We  are  constantly  being  reminded  in  the  inter- 
course of  society  that  "the  world  is  very  round"; 
and  the  same  holds  true  in  a  measure  of  the  world 
•of  books.  For  illustration  of  the  biography  of  a 
hard-working  clergyman  one  would  hardly  look  to 
a  school  of  fiction  based  upon  the  negation  of  all 
which  the  clergyman  morally  and  socially  represents. 
Yet  those  who  realize  that  Wantage  is  the  'Alfred- 
ston'  of  one  of  the  most  powerful,  and  repulsive, 
novels  which  the  English  branch  of  that  school 
has  produced,  will  find  it  interesting  and  instructive 
to  contrast  the  novelist's  more  or  less  conjectural 
criticism  of  life  in  and  about  our  smaller  country- 
towns  with  the  results  actually  produced  on  that 
life  by  constructive  energy,  informed  and  directed 
by  faith,  hope,  and  love. 

A.  J.  B. 


CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER   I. 
EAELY  YEARS. 

Birth  and  Parentage — School  Days — Trinity  College,  Cambridge — 
Letters  to  his  Mother — Failure  of  Johnston  &  Co. — Preparation 
for  Holy  Orders  -  1-20 

CHAPTER   II. 
THE   BEGINNING   OF  WORK. 

Influence  of  Rev.  Charles  Dyson — Ordained  Deacon  and  Priest- 
Incumbent  of  Wareside — Correspondence  with  Rev.  J.  Keble — 
Acceptance  of  Wantage  -  21-45 

CHAPTER  III. 
TROUBLED  TIMES. 

Setting  to  Work — Letters — Archdeacon  Pott's  Recollections — 'Black 
Wantage ' — Correspondence — Work  at  Wantage — Anxiety — The 

Gorham  Judgment — Correspondence   with   Keble  and  - 

Extract  from  the  "Parish  Journal" — Restoration  of  the  Parish 
Church  opposed     -         -  46-86 

CHAPTER   IV. 
THE  PARISH. 

The  Parish — Rural  Dean — Restoration  of  the  Parish  Church — Rev. 
W.  G.  Sawyer's  Recollections — Canon  Carter's  Recollections — 
Correspondence — With  Dr.  Liddon — Parish  Records  and  Work 
—  Foreign  Missions — Preaching — Parochial  Visiting — Extracts 
from  the  "  Parish  Journal " 87-126 


4VcMM.i. 


I  tf/ffi,t,     7 a// ft 

"  1  #-',:>. 


CHAPTER   I. 

EARLY  YEARS. 

WILLIAM  JOHN  BUTLER  was  born  10th  February, 
1818,  in  Bryanston  Street,  Marylebone.  the  eldest 
child  of  John  Laforey  Butler  and  Henrietta  his  wife, 
daughter  of  Capt.  Robert  Patrick.  His  father  was 
a  partner  in  the  mercantile  house  of  Johnston  &  Co. 
in  Bush  Lane.  His  family  originally  came  from 
Pembrokeshire.  Mrs.  Butler  was  of  Irish  descent, 
the  Patricks  having  settled  in  the  seventeenth 
century  in  the  north  of  Ireland,  in  company  with 
many  other  Scottish  families,  at  the  "  Plantation  of 
Ulster."  Something  must  be  said  of  the  characters 
of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Butler,  to  form  some  conception 
of  the  influences  which  surrounded  William  Butler's 
childhood.  The  father  was  a  thoroughly  upright, 
conscientious  man,  sensitive  in  disposition,  extremely 
accurate  and  fastidious  in  language ;  traits  which 
were  certainly  inherited  by  the  son.  The  mother's 
Irish  blood  brought  with  it  the  national  character- 
istics of  gaiety  and  open-heartedness,  and  a  keen 
sense  of  humour.  William  Butler  was  baptized  at 

t. 


2  EARLY   YEARS  1818- 

Marylebone  Church  by  the  Rev.  Basil  Woodd,  who 
presented    him    with    Burkitt   on   the    Neiv    Testa- 
ment,   in    unconscious    anticipation    of    his    future 
clerical   career.     After   him   were    born    two   sons — 
Charles    and    Paul,    twins ;    and    two    daughters- 
Frances,    who    married    Kirkman    Daniel    Hodgson, 
Esq.,  M.P.,  and  Anna. 

There  is  little  to  tell  about  his  childhood.  It  was 
passed  at  Southgate,  in  the  parish  of  Edmonton, 
Middlesex,  whither  his  parents  moved  from  London. 
He  is  reported  to  have  been  "  a  fine  child,  and 
forward  for  his  age,"  which  is  evident  from  his 
having  read  Beckmann's  Inventions  and  Bingley's 
Animal  Biography  when  only  five  or  six  years 
old ;  "a  thoroughly  manly  boy,  and  very  tender- 
hearted," "  never  frivolous  or  indolent,  always  fond 
of  study  and  literature  ;  quite  without  malice  or 
unkind  feelings  towards  anyone";  such  is  the  testi- 
mony of  his  surviving  brother  and  sister. 

He  was  brought  up  religiously  in  the  school 
of  old-fashioned,  orthodox  churchmanship,  and  one 
little  incident  of  his  childhood  bears  witness  to  it. 
During  a  thunderstorm,  when  he  was  between  three 
and  four  years  of  age,  he  was  heard  to  repeat  the 
Collect,  "  Lighten  our  darkness."  No  one  wrho  knew 
his  fidelity  through  life  to  the  Prayer  Book  will 
fail  to  appreciate  this  early  manifestation  of  it. 

The  village  schoolmaster  taught  him  till  he  was 
eight  or  nine ;  he  then  went  to  a  school  kept  by 
the  Rev.  Stephen  Freeman  at  Forty  Hill,  in  Enfield, 
a  few  miles  from  his  home.  No  trace  remains  of 


1841  AT   WESTMINSTER  3 

his  schooldays  there  except  a  letter  to  his  grand- 
mother Mrs.  Patrick,  the  joint  composition  of 
himself  and  his  brothers,  who  were  at  school  with 
him.  From  Enfield  he  went  in  1830  to  West- 
minster, where  he  was  elected  a  Queen's  Scholar. 

One  of  his  few  surviving  schoolfellows  has  fur- 
nished some  recollections  of  these  early  days.  He 
writes  as  follows  : 

We  were  together  at  Westminster  for  five  years  as  Queen's 
Scholars,  but  until  the  fifth  year  we  were  not  in  the  same 
Election.  College  consisted  of  four  Elections,  and  the  boys  of 
the  same  Elections  were  associated  as  friends.  If  I  had,  in 
the  usual  course,  left  Westminster  at  the  end  of  my  fourth 
year  of  College,  I  should  never  have  known  Butler.  For  special 
reasons  I  was  allowed  to  stay  there  a  fifth  year,  and  so  be- 
came one  of  the  same  Election,  and  I  then  began  to  associate 
with  him;  but  I  had  already  a  special  friend  in  the  same 
Election,  and  I  did  not  seek  to  make  a  friend  of  Butler. 
My  impression  of  him  at  that  time  was  of  a  boy  of  more 
than  average  ability  and  acquired  knowledge,  but  too  evidently 
conscious  of  his  acquirements,  and  disposed  to  boast  of  them, 
and  very  confident  in  his  own  opinion.  Such  a  character  and 
the  fact  of  his  having  very  short  sight  invited  much  mockery 
and  teasing  by  his  companions,  so  that  my  recollections  of 
him  at  that  time  consist  principally  of  absurd  situations  in 
which  he  placed  himself  through  attempting  things  in  which 
he  failed,  partly  through  defective  sight,  partly  through  natural 
awkwardness. 

Defective  sight  made  him  fail  at  cricket,  football,  and  hockey ; 
but  he  learned  to  row,  and  when  in  1836  a  Westminster  eight 
rowed  against  an  Eton  eight  at  Staines,  he  rowed  No.  4,  I 
rowing  No.  8.  Westminster  was  then  a  rough  school,  and  I 
recollect  some  special  examples  among  boys  of  the  Elections 
above  Butler's  of  low  moral  tone,  but  I  have  no  recollection 
of  his  ever  following  bad  example,  or  that  he  ever  was  other- 
wise than  well  conducted  both  in  and  out  of  school  hours. 

In    May    1836   he   and   I   were   elected   scholars   of  Trinity 


4  EARLY   YEARS  1818- 

College,  Cambridge,  and  we  did  not  meet  from  that  month 
till  the  following  October,  when  we  began  to  keep  terms  at 
Trinity.  The  rough  discipline  he  underwent  at  Westminster 
was  perhaps  wholesome  for  him.  At  Cambridge  his  opinion 
of  his  own  acquirements  and  ability  were  seldom  manifest. 
His  friends  were  of  the  best  of  the  Trinity  undergraduates, 
e.g.  Vaughan,  now  Dean  of  LlandafF,  Hodson,  now  Vicar  of 
Enfield,  Mathison,  Lawrence,  Webb,  Philip  Freeman,  Farrer, 
and,  in  his  last  year,  George  Kennedy  of  St.  John's.  At  that 
time  no  one  was  allowed  to  try  for  classical  honours  who  had 
not  taken  mathematical.  Butler  had  no  taste  for  mathematics, 
and  wisely,  I  think,  decided  not  to  waste  time  in  learning 
what  he  disliked,  but  to  prepare  for  the  ordinary  B.A.  degree. 
He  read  steadily  the  subjects  necessary  for  that  degree  ;  he 
also  read  higher  Classics  with  Vaughan  as  a  private  tutor, 
and  if  he  could  have  tried  for  Honours  in  Classics  I  believe 
he  would  have  taken  a  high  place.  He  also  read  Italian, 
French,  and  I  think  German,  and  History.  He  was  a  member 
of  the  Cambridge  Camden  Society,  which  implied  some  know- 
ledge of  architecture;  he  attended  Professor  Smythe's  lectures 
on  the  French  Revolution,  and  Professor  Sedgwick's  lectures 
on  Geology.  He  was  a  member  of  the  Union  and  occasionally 
took  part  in  the  debates. 

Butler  was  in  lodgings  during  his  first  year;  then,  until  he 
left  Cambridge,  he  had  the  rooms  in  the  upper  story  of  the 
gateway  tower  leading  from  the  great  Court  into  Trinity  Lane, 
known  as  the  Queen's  Gate.  M.  T.  Fairer,  also  a  Westminster 
scholar,  had  the  lower  story. 

When  we  went  to  Trinity  in  October,  1836,  the  Third 
Trinity  (Eton  and  Westminster)  Boat  Club,  which  had  once 
been  head  of  the  river,  was  very  low,  I  think  tenth,  and  we 
were  persuaded  to  join  in  recovering  its  place.  When  we  left 
it  was  second,  and  for  some  time  Butler  regularly  took  part 
in  the  practice  and  races ;  but  after  the  first  year  he  found 
it  interfered  with  reading,  and  he  ceased  to  row  with  the  first 
crew.  He  was  never  a  first-rate  oar,  but  could  always  be 
depended  on  to  do  his  best. 

In  January  1840  we  took  our  B.A.  degree ;  I  then  left 
Cambridge,  and  I  believe  that  I  did  not  see  Butler  again  until 
1844,  when  we  were  there  to  take  our  M.A.  degree.  In  that 


1841  DEAN  VAUGHAN'S  RECOLLECTIONS  5 

interval  each  had  married,  and  each  had  nearly  lost  his  wife 
in  her  first  confinement,  and  for  that  reason  we  were  more 
drawn  together  than  ever  before.  At  his  invitation  I  went  with 
my  wife  to  stay  a  Sunday  with  him  at  a  place  near  Amwell 
in  Herts,  where  he  had  a  Cure.  We  went  to  Amwell  on  the 
Saturday,  and  I  remember  being  taken  by  him  in  the  evening 
to  help  in  the  teaching  of  a  men's  night  school,  and  I  began 
to  understand  and  appreciate  his  real  character  and  the  energy 
of  his  work.  I  did  not  visit  him  again  until  he  was  at 
Wantage.  Of  his  work  there  and  since  he  left  Wantage  there 
are  many  who  can  tell  far  better  than  I  can,  and  I  do  not 
attempt  to  say  anything  of  it. 

I  feel  that  what  I  have  written  will  help  you  little,  if  at 
all,  to  give  any  idea  of  Butler's  life  at  Westminster  and 
Cambridge ;  I  wish  it  were  otherwise.  Since  I  knew  what 
he  really  was  I  have  always  regretted  that  I  did  not  take 
more  pains  to  know  him  when  I  had  the  opportunity  at 
Cambridge. 

The  Very  Eeverend  C.  J.  Vaughan,  D.D.,  who 
was  his  most  intimate  friend  during  a  good  part 
of  his  Cambridge  career,  writes : 

It  must  ever  be  a  pleasure  to  me  to  think  of  your  father, 
so  dear  and  kind  a  friend  in  the  young  life  of  Cambridge 
and  Trinity  days,  and  even  in  the  later  years  of  silence  and 
separation  not  forgotten. 

I  can  still  see  him  as  he  was  in  the  long  vacation  of  1837, 
the  time  of  our  closest  intimacy,  full  of  health  and  spirits, 
always  brave  and  true,  not  yet  developed  into  the  devotion 
of  his  maturer  life,  but  already  loved  by  good  men  like  our 
dear  common  friend  G-.  E.  L.  Cotton,  and  already  with  many 
"  shadows  cast  before  "  of  what  he  was  to  be  in  due  time. 

I  have  little  to  say  that  is  worth  saying.  But  this  is 
because  our  life  together  was  uneventful  and  our  friendship 
without  breach  or  jar. 

When  we  met  forty  or  fifty  years  afterwards  in  Convocation, 
generally  voting  on  opposite  sides,  the  old  alliance  was  still 
recognized  both  in  speech  and  feeling  on  both  sides.  And 


6  EARLY  YEARS  1818- 

when  I  last  saw  him  (in  the  Charing  Cross  Hospital)  he  was 
the  same  cheery  and  joyful  companion  that  I  knew  him  of 
old,  only  ripened  into  the  man  of  experience,  the  man  of 
many  toils  and  high  attainments  in  the  service  of  God  and 
man. 

His  friendship  for  the  writer  of  these  lines  led 
on  one  occasion  to  an  affair  which  seems  to  have 
made  some  stir  in  the  University,  and  might,  but 
for  the  intervention  of  some  sensible  advisers,  have 
brought  him  into  serious  trouble.  In  the  early  part 
of  1839,  Mr.  Vaughan  was  standing  for  the  office 
of  President  of  the  Union  Society,  and  Butler 
naturally  canvassed  with  energy  for  his  friend. 
There  was,  however,  a  set,  headed  by  some  young 
men  of  good  family  belonging  to  St.  John's,  with 
whom  Mr.  Vaughan  was  personally  unpopular.  These 
put  up  an  opposition  candidate,  and  party  feeling 
ran  somewhat  high.  Butler,  in  common  with  a 
large  number  of  members,  had  signed  a  requisition 
to  the  existing  president,  agreeably  to  the  rules  of 
the  society,  calling  upon  him  to  reconsider  some 
decision,  and  this  was  lying  in  the  reading-room  for 
signature.  S—  — ,  one  of  the  Johnians  in  question, 
and  some  of  his  set,  chancing  to  see  this,  added  to  the 
list  of  names — in  a  not  uncommon  vein  of  under- 
graduate wit — those  of  certain  race-horses.  The 
matter  attracted  some  notice.  At  a  meeting  on 
March  21st,  Butler  moved  a  resolution  expressing  the 
society's  disapprobation  of  this  conduct.  A  stormy 
debate  resulted,  in  the  course  of  which  S—  -  used 
some  epithets  that  were  thought  to  involve  an 


1841  AN   ALTERCATION   AT  THE   UNION  7 

allusion  to  private  and  personal  matters.  Failing 
to  obtain  from  the  president  the  protection  which 
he  thought  due  to  him,  Butler  then  moved  that 
the  house  should  form  itself  into  a  committee. 
This  was  carried,  and  the  chair  was  taken  by  a 
fellow  of  Trinity,  no  less  a  person  than  the  well- 
known  scholar  J.  W.  Donaldson.  S—  -  then  observed 
that  "  seeing  the  name  of  the  honourable  mover 
among  the  signers  of  the  requisition  he  had  written 
down  the  names  of  the  five  other  brutes."  Cam- 
bridge men  of  a  later  generation  will  recognize  the 
Unionic  invective,  as  still  employed  occasionally  by 
heated  orators.  However,  this  was  a  little  too  much, 

and  S narrowly  escaped  expulsion  on  the  spot, 

the  feeling,  it  would  appear,  being  almost  unanimous 
against  him.  A  demand  for  an  apology  only  elicited, 
as  it  would  seem,  an  insolent  reply,  and  threats 
of  personal  violence  were  uttered  by  the  aggrieved 
party.  It  was,  however,  represented  by  cooler- 
headed  friends  that  the  result  of  this  might  be 
serious  for  both  sides.  At  that  time  duelling  was 
not  yet  a  tradition  of  the  remote  past,  and  the 
penalty  for  taking  part  in  a  duel,  even  if  no  worse 
consequences  ensued,  would  inevitably  be  expulsion 
from  the  University. 

Ultimately  the  matter  was  put  into  the  hands 
of  three  friends,  Trinity  men  of  good  standing,  two 
undergraduates  and  one  B.A.,  the  latter  being  the 
senior  classic  of  the  previous  year,  W.  G.  Humphry, 
in  after  years  Vicar  of  St.  Martin's  in  the  Fields. 
These  prudent  counsellors,  to  whose  judgement 


8  EARLY  YEARS  1818- 

Butler  absolutely  submitted  himself,  decided,  as 
indeed  they  could  hardly  have  failed  to  do,  "  that 
it  was  only  to  the  expression  of  public  feeling  that 
he  could  look  for  redress,"  and  "  that  on  the  manner 
in  which  that  feeling  had  been  expressed  by  the 
Union  Society  and  generally  in  the  University,  he 
had  every  reason  to  congratulate  himself." 

About    a   week    later,    S ,    who    had    also    in 

the  meantime  taken  counsel  with  a  friend,  wrote 
acknowledging  that  the  expressions  used  by  him 
"  were  unbecoming  and  unjustifiable,"  and  the  matter 
seems  to  have  blown  over,  though  from  a  letter 
written  to  Butler  by  his  mother  nearly  a  month 
afterwards,  it  would  seem  that  discords  still  sim- 
mered. Among  other  things  she  writes : 

I  myself  wish  you  had  amongst  you  all,  one  clear-sighted 
old  Nestor  who  might,  from  his  own  wisdom,  put  down  the 
whole  quarrel,  which  in  a  few  years  will  be  seen  by  the  present 
young  actors  as  quite  a  ridiculous  business ;  a  Professor  of 
Patience  and  Harmony  being  much  needed  there,  I  suspect. 

The  old  story,  si  jeunesse  savait. 

Another  letter  written  by  Mrs.  Butler  to  her  son 
about  this  time  contains  some  sound  advice  on  the 
subject  of  bills. 

Your  expenses  are  now  becoming  understood  by  yourself, 
and  by  a  judicious  arrangement  you  can  get  them  into  a  nut- 
shell. Pray  have  as  FEW  bills  as  possible.  Tradespeople  are 
not  always  friendly  to  this,  as  amongst  many  a  profit  is  obtained 
by  the  contrary  practice.  But  it  is  so  injurious  to  the  honest 
feelings  of  a  young  person  to  be  spending  he  knows  not  what 
of  his  income,  and  then  temptations  abound  till  the  best 
principles  are  led  to  yield.  Also  the  doctoring  of  bills,  by  which 


1841  PASSING  THE  LITTLE-GO  9 

I  mean,  the  making  an  account  out;  but  from  an  idea  that 
another  can  be  subtracted  from  it,  the  endeavour  to  make 
all  appear  SMOOTH  becomes  a  perpetual  source  of  artifice  and 
plotting  which  weighs  down  a  mind,  otherwise  ingenuous,  till 
it  becomes  callous,  reckless,  and  hardened,  and  is  at  last  com- 
pletely out  of  that  strong  firm  path  of  integrity  for  which  no 
human  pleasure  can  compensate. 

W.  J.  B.  TO  HIS  MOTHER. 

CAMBRIDGE,  March  30,  1838. 

I  have  just  passed  that  dreadful  and  difficult  ordeal  yclept 
by  the  Dons  "  the  previous  examination,"  and  by  the  Under- 
graduates "Little-go."  I  went  in  on  Tuesday,  the  second  day 
of  examination,  in  a  most  wholesome  state  of  alarm,  for  it  is 
a  peculiarity  attached  to  this  examination  that  every  one, 
from  the  best  even  unto  the  worst  men  in  the  year,  are 
frightened  by  the  prospect  of  this.  Paley's  Evidences  is  the 
great  bugbear  to  most,  but  some  unfortunate  mathematical 
men,  who  have  never  been  at  public  schools,  get  plucked  in 
the  Classics.  However,  my  horror  was  greatly  abated  in  the 
course  of  an  hour,  and  on  finding  I  could  floor  eight  out  of 
nine  questions  in  Paley,  it  was  changed  to  mirth.  Well,  in 
the  evening  at  nine  o'clock  my  fate  was  decided,  and  I  was 
written  down  as  "  examined  and  approved,"  with  sundry  others ; 
forty  went  in  on  my  day,  and  of  these  fourteen  were  plucked. 
.  .  .  A  friend  of  mine  goes  in  to-morrow;  I  have  been 
coaching  him,  as  the  technical  expression  is,  for  the  last  fort- 
night. .  .  .  To-morrow,  Sedgwick,  the  geological  professor, 
gives  a  field-lecture,  i.e.  a  cross-country  expedition  on  horse- 
back, stopping  at  the  various  places  worthy  of  his  attention. 
These  he  previously  specifies,  and  I  am  going  to  walk  with  a 
friend  of  mine  and  cut  off  corners,  etc.,  and  get  to  the  different 
points  where  he  lectures,  and  so  get  what  good  we  can.  He 
winds  up  at  Ely.  .  .  .  Vaughan  has  just  been  bracketed 
equal  with  Lord  Lyttelton  for  the  Chancellor's  Medals,  a  prize 
given  to  Classics.  He  was  also  put  equal  with  him  in  the 
Classical  Tripos  Examination,  so  that  the  two  are  as  equal  as 
possible.  Vaughan  beat  him  two  years  ago  for  the  University 
Scholarship,  and  last  year  when  Vaughan  was  hors  de  combat 


io  EARLY   YEARS  1818- 

Lyttelton  got  the  Scholarship.  This  year  Freeman  of  Trinity 
and  Williams  of  King's  got  the  two  Scholarships.  .  .  .  Have 
any  of  you  read  Carlyle's  History  of  the  French  Revolution  1  It 
is  written  in  quite  a  new  style,  and,  as  far  as  I  can  judge,  an 
exceedingly  powerful  one.  I  long  to  be  able  to  read  it  satis- 
factorily through  when  I  get  home,  for  I  have  no  time  here. 

In  the  summer  he  was  at  the  Lakes  with  a  reading 
party  during  the  Long  Vacation.  Some  brief  extracts 
from  his  journal  contain  his  impressions  of  some 
Oxford  contemporaries. 

Ambleside,  July  11.  Wednesday  and  rainy.  Faber  an 
Oxford  Catholic  and  friend  of  Freeman  came  with  two  pupils. 
He  teaed  with  us.  Sufficiently  conceited  and  donnish. 

Friday.  Faber  &  Co.  dined  with  us  including  Whytehead. 
The  mannerism  of  these  people  is  intolerable. 

Saturday.  To  my  great  joy  the  Balstons  came,  as  it  will 
perhaps  relieve  us  from  that  eternal  Faber  &  Co. 

Balstons,  Champernowne,  Froude,  Freeman,  and  I  set  forth 
to  climb  Fairfield. 

Sunday,  August  5.  We  Avalked  to  Troutbeck,  a  little  village 
four  miles  off,  to  hear  Arnold  preach.  He  preached  very  well 
indeed.  The  church  was  most  primitive,  only  one  pew,  and 
most  extraordinary  altar  decorations.  The  real  clergyman, 
Arnold  told  us,  spoke  in  the  regular  Westmoreland  dialect. 
The  walk  was  most  beautiful,  and  showed  the  mountains  to 
perfection,  Sea wf ell,  Langdale  Pikes,  and  the  arch  [?]  of 
Mickledoor,  to  which  Arnold  compared  the  Greek  /^eyaA??  dvpa, 
as  being  exactly  the  same  in  sound. 

On  this  tour  he  is  said  to  have  taken  a  black-letter 
Chaucer  for  his  private  reading.  Mr.  Freeman  took 
the  Christian  Year.  Before  long  they  exchanged 
books,  and  he  expresses  his  admiration  for  the 
Christian  Year  in  verses,  which  are  given  more  to 
show  his  appreciation  of  its  character  than  for  any 


1841  VERSES   WRITTEN  AT  CAMBRIDGE  ir 

peculiar  excellence  of  their  own.  He  had  indeed 
what  Wordsworth  calls  the  "  Faculty  of  verse,"  and 
wrote  it  till  the  last  year  of  his  life,  but  he  never 
considered  himself  in  any  sense  of  the  term  a  poet. 

CHRISTIAN   YEAR. 

Here  are  no  strains  of  maniac  devotee 

Blighting  soft  mercy  with  their  uncouth  lay, 

Nor  here  the  songs  of  Pagan  revelry 

Unhallowed,  darkening  the  pure  Gospel  day  ; 

But  here  the  gentle  streams  of  Heaven  glide 

Rippling  through  caves  of  crystal,  where  the  air 

Is  soft  and  pleasant,  and  the  woodland's  pride 
Of  song  is  echoed  from  each  distant  lair. 

Roses  not  thorns  surround  their  path  of  love 

While  through  their  variegated  banks  they  rove, 
Slaking  the  thirst  of  all  who  hither  haste 
With  ardent  souls,  the  glittering  springs  to  taste, 

And  ebbing  now,  now  flowing,  glancing  bright 

Where  all  before  appeared  but  gloomy  night. 

Although  a  smoker  in  his  College  days,  he  entirely 
gave  up  the  use  of  tobacco  after  he  was  ordained. 
The  following  verses  amusingly  recall  his  old  attach- 

^7   «/ 

ment  to  the  habit  for  which  in  later  days  he 
expressed  antipathy. 

A  TRINITY  CLOISTER  INCIDENT. 

Gently  was  the  night  breeze  blowing, 

Tranquil  light  the  fair  moon  gave, 
Sleep  o'er  mortals'  breasts  was  flowing, 

All  was  silent  as  the  grave, 
Save  my  footsteps'  echoed  traces, 

As  through  cloistered  shades  I  walked, 
Thinking  now  of  lovely  faces, 

Pleasures  past,  or  pleasures  baulked. 


12  EARLY   YEARS  1818- 

Sweet,  though  tinged  with  sacred  sorrow, 

All  my  recollections  were, 
And  I  hoped  the  coming  morrow, 

Like  the  past,  would  be  as  fair. 
Puffing  at  my  mild  Havannah, 

Slow  and  grave  I  Avandered  on, 
As  on  bank  of  Guadiana 

Stalks  the  solemn  Spanish  Don. 
But  a  Cambridge  Don  drew  nigher 

Filled  with  Euclid,  filled  with  spleen, 
When  he  saw  the  gleaming  fire 

Anger  turned  his  visage  green. 
"  Sir,"  he  cried,  "  what  means  this  horrid 

Stench,  what  means  this  loose  array, 
Men  come  here  to  store  their  forehead, 

Not  to  blow  their  wits  away." 

A  tragic  event  which  occurred  while  William 
Butler  was  at  Trinity  is  thus  described  by  him  in 
a  letter  to  his  mother. 

I  must  now  tell  you  the  most  distressing  thing  I  ever  heard. 

Poor   F was   drowned    on    Sunday    morning    at    half-past 

one  o'clock,  under  the  most  fearful  circumstances.  I  knew 
him  very  well,  and  was  to  have  breakfasted  with  him  that 
very  morning.  I  am  so  much  shocked  that  it  will  be  quite 
a  relief  to  tell  you  the  whole  case.  I  had  sculled  to  and  from 
Ely  with  Arthur  Shadwell  and  a  Trinity  man  named  Welby. 
On  our  return  we  went  to  Welby's  rooms  for  some  food,  and 

while  we  were  there  in  came  F .     He  sat  down  and  joined 

us,  and  stayed  there  till  near  one  o'clock,  talking  and  laughing. 
We  were,  as  usual,  quizzing  him,  etc.  Another  man  named 

B came  in   and  said  he  was  hungry.      F ,   the  most 

good-natured  fellow  alive,  said  that  he  had  provided  food  for 

his   breakfast  party   next   day,   and   B might  have   some 

then  if  he  liked.     But  B [said]  this  would  not  be  fair  and 

asked  him  to  get  some  audit  ale  he  (F )  had.     F went 

for  the  ale,  the  party  broke  up,  and  B thought  no  more 

of  it,  but  went  to  bed.     In  a  short  time  F came  to  his 


1841  A   CAMBRIDGE   TRAGEDY  13 

rooms  with  the  ale,  but  finding  him  in  bed  wished  him  good- 
night, and  returned  for  his  own  rooms,  which  are  in  the 
Great  Court,  on  the  Chapel  side.  But  going  through  the 

screens,  he  met  a  tipsy  man  named  H standing  there  with 

some  others.  F said,  We  ought  to  go  out  of  College  to- 
night; H- agreed,  hardly  knowing  what  he  said,  and  F 

being  the  most  experienced,  offered  to  show  them  the  way. 
Now  the  way  out  of  College  is  round  the  extremity  of  a  wall 
which  abuts  on  the  river,  at  the  back  of  the  library.  This 
wall  it  was  necessary  to  stride  round  from  one  parapet  to  the 

other.     F—  —  got  round  safely  enough,  but  H ,  being  very 

tipsy,  missing  his  footing  tumbled  in.     The  water  was  up  to 

his  waist,  but  he  was  very  much  frightened.     F ,  who  was 

a  capital  swimmer,  called  out,  Can  you  swim  ?     No,  said  H . 

So  F took  off  his  coat  and  hat,  and  walked  down  the  steps 

into  the  water  to  help  him  out.  He  got  hold  of  him,  and  went 
back  with  him  towards  the  steps,  but,  owing  to  the  darkness 
probably,  could  not  find  them.  He  was  heard  to  say,  "Never 
mind,  I  will  take  you  across."  He  was  seen  to  go  across  with 

H for  a  little  way,  and  suddenly  both  disappeared.     There 

was  another  man  there  named  H 1,  who  had  merely  joined 

them  to  see  the  climb  round  the  wall.     He  rushed  away  for 

help,  and  on  returning  they  found  H clinging  to  the  ivy 

on  the  wall,  and  saw   nothing  of  F .     Knowing  that  he 

was  a  good  swimmer,  they  supposed  he  had  swam  across  and 
gone  away  for  fear  of  being  caught,  and  gave  themselves  little 

trouble   about   him.      H was   far  too   flurried   with   wine 

and  horror  to  know  anything  about  him,  nor  even  how  he 
himself  got  to  the  wall.  They  let  down  a  drag  to  him,  and 
pulled  him  [up]  when  he  had  been  about  twenty  minutes  in 
the  water.  Ferguson  met  them  in  the  cloisters  as  they  were 
carrying  him  up,  and  one  of  them  said  that  they  were  not 

quite  sure  about  F ,  but  hardly  supposing  that   anything 

could  have  happened.  Ferguson  said  that  there  should  be 
no  doubt  on  such  a  question,  and  immediately  climbed  over 

the  walls  to  the  Johnian  Bridge  to  see  for  tidings  of  F . 

In  the  meantime  others  came ;  they  got  a  boat  and  a  drag, 
yet  hardly  believing  any  mischief,  and  after  dragging  for  nearly 
three  hours,  struck  on  his  body.  It  was  carried  into  College 
at  five  o'clock  yesterday  morning.  Of  course  he  was  quite 


14  EARLY  YEARS  1818- 

dead.  You  may  imagine  the  sensation  which  so  appalling  an 
event  would  cause.  An  inquest  sat  yesterday,  and  brought 
in  a  verdict  of  "drowned  while  endeavouring  to  rescue  Mr. 

H ."     There  can  be  no  doubt  that  going  in  as  he  did,  flushed 

and  heated,  after  eating  and  drinking  heartily,  and  feet  fore- 
most, brought  on  a  sudden  fit  of  apoplexy.  The  affair  is 
rendered  more  distressing  by  the  fact  that  his  brother  was 
burnt  to  death  at  school  about  a  year  and  a  half  ago. 

Mrs.  Butler  was  a  thoroughly  religious-minded 
woman,  and  her  letters  show  it.  In  one  she  speaks 
in  terms  of  high  approval  of  Newman's  sermons ; 
but  in  another,  dated  30th  November,  1838,  she 
gently  reproves  her  son  for  neglecting  to  attend 
the  funeral  of  the  veteran  leader  of  the  Evangelical 
party  at  Cambridge. 

I  received  your  letter,  and  had  great  pleasure  in  so  doing, 
perceiving  the  cheerful  strain  in  which  it  was  written;  but 
before  I  proceed  to  one  topic,  in  which  I  know  you  will 
sympathize  with  me,  two  or  three  remarks  I  Avill  previously 
make  upon  your's.  I  should  have  felt  better  pleased  had 
you  on  the  day  of  Mr.  Simeon's  funeral  made  the  attendance 
upon  it  instead  of  your  water  excursion. 

She  then  proceeds  to  give  a  graphic  account  of 
a  fire  which  had  broken  out  in  the  house  between 
one  and  two  in  the  morning.  The  whole  family 
had  had  a  narrow  escape  of  being  burnt  to  death, 
and  probably  would  have  been  had  not  Mrs.  Butler 
been  awakened  by  the  smoke,  and  given  the  alarm. 
Touches  that  now  look  quaint  enough  are  the 
allusions  to  the  efficiency  of  the  "  New  Police," 
Sir  Robert  Peel's  recent  invention,  and,  a  small 
domestic  tragedy,  "the  parrot  burnt  to  a  cinder." 


1841  LIFE   AT   CAMBRIDGE  15 

She  concludes,  "  All  little  matters  now  appear  indeed 
useless,  after  so  great  a  crisis,  to  dwell  upon.  To 
you  I  repeat,  my  dear  boy,  be  steady,  seek  not 
company  for  company's  sake ;  a  character  of  another 
kind  I  pray  may  be  your's  for  the  sake  of  many 
whose  happiness  is  bound  up  with  your's.  Economy 
also,  and  not  those  vain  amusements  which  end  in 
nothing." 

In  1839  he  won  the  Trinity  College  Essay  Prize. 
The  subject  was  "  The  Colonial  Policy  of  the 
Ancients."  A  complimentary  notice  in  a  Cambridge 
paper  describes  it  as  manifesting  "  ability,  learning, 
and  research."  His  mother,  writing  from  Southgate, 
23rd  March,  says,  "  I  am  glad  we  are  so  soon  to 
enjoy  a  re-perusal  of  your  essay,  which  for  so  deep 
a  production  of  Greek  and  Latin  quotations  is  as 
little  dry  as  possible." 

Some  excellent  advice  as  to  the  necessity  of 
keeping  accounts  follows,  and  one  sentence  recalls 
a  characteristic  trait  which  distinguished  him  through 
life  :  "  You  are  not  extravagant,  quite,  I  should  say, 
the  reverse,  but  from  a  born  indolence  averse  to 
the  routine  of  Bookkeeping." 

He  took  his  B.A.  degree  in  January  1840. 

W.  J.  B.  TO  HIS  MOTHER. 

CAMBRIDGE,  February  12,  1840. 

I  got  another  present  from  Freeman.  It  was  the  large 
edition  of  the  Christian  Year,  handsomely  bound  in  morocco. 
I  liked  it  particularly  from  him,  because  he  first  opened  my 
eyes  to  its  surpassing  beauties.  I  write  this  letter  while  waiting 


16  EARLY  YEARS  1818- 

for  my  lazy  pupil,  I  wish  I  could  say  pupils.  This  is  the 
second  lesson  he  has  skipped,  and  I  am  sure  I  read  more  for 
him  than  he  does  for  himself.  ...  I  just  returned  to 
Cambridge  in  time  to  see  Cotton,  who  departed  for  Rugby 
the  next  day.  I  have  agreed  to  pay  him  a  visit  at  Easter. 
...  I  am  attending  Professor  Scholefield's  Lectures  in 
Thucydides,  and  preparing  for  these  together  with  coaching 
my  pupil,  and  preparing  for  it,  pretty  nearly  occupies  all  my 
time.  .  .  .  The  Classical  examination  is  going  on,  and  I 

instruct  D as  much  as  I  can,  but  I  fear  that  he  is  not 

likely  to  do  very  well.  Alfred  Shadwell  has  done  better 
than  I  expected.  Kennedy  is  one  of  the  examiners,  and  I 
am  to  read  the  papers  to  him  this  evening,  while  he  marks 
the  faults. 

The  last  remark  implies  a  curiously  slack  method, 
as  it  would  now  appear,  of  performing  an  examiner's 
duties. 

W.  J.  B.  TO  HIS  SISTER. 

CAMBRIDGE,  February  24,  1840. 

I  have  been  assisting  Kennedy  to  examine  the  papers  of  the 
candidates  for  the  Classical  Honours.  Drew,  Shadwell,  and 
many  of  my  friends  are  among  them,  and  I  feel  sometimes  sorely 
tempted  to  cheat !  I  have  also  been  correcting  the  proof  sheets 
of  my  essay,  which  will  be  out  in  a  very  few  days,  as  soon  as  I 
can  get  hold  of  Kennedy  to  look  over  it,  and  correct  any  errors 
which  may  have  crept  in  by  negligence  of  the  author,  for  when 
printed  it  is  of  course  irrevocable.  I  am  looking  out  for  a  pupil 
to  go  abroad  with  this  summer,  for  I  think  that  that  would  be 
an  agreeable  arrangement  for  every  one,  both  at  home  and  at 
Cambridge.  I  should  like  some  one  to  prepare  for  Cambridge. 
Last  week  I  dined  out  every  day.  Never  were  such  doings — 
with  Kennedy,  Lawrence,  White,  and  others,  and  in  King's 
Hall  with  the  Fellows.  ...  I  think  that  Mr.  Quin  is  a 
great  humbug.  I  recommend  you  not  to  argue  with  him,  but 
ask  him,  if  the  Roman  Church  be  in  reality  the  same  as  the 
Anglican,  why  he  goes  to  a  Dissenting  Chapel  instead  of  the 
Parish  Church.  I  have  no  patience  with  such  sophistry. 


1841  A   REVERSE   OF    FORTUNE  17 

In  July  he  started  with  a  pupil  for  a  continental 
tour.  They  went  from  Southampton  to  Havre  ;  then 
to  Paris,  where  they  stayed  till  the  17th,  and  then 
visited  Berne,  Lausanne,  and  Geneva,  passing  on  by 
Turin  and  Genoa  to  Florence  and  Rome,  and  seeing 
Ravenna  on  the  way  to  Venice.  He  kept  a  journal 
during  the  tour,  which  is  a  good  sample  of  the 
thoroughgoing  industry  he  put  into  all  his  work. 
Public  buildings,  churches,  and  pictures  he  never 
allowed  to  escape  his  eye.  At  Lake  Leman,  after 
saying  that  one  end  of  the  lake  is  rendered  classical 
by  Chillon,  St.  Gingo,  and  Vevey,  he  adds  in  a  note, 
"  I  never  met  with  this  saint  except  here  and  in 
the  Vicar  of  Wakefield,  '  by  the  living  Jingo,' 
which  oath  evil  disposed  people  have  tried  to 
explain  away  ! " 

The  journal  ends  abruptly  at  Venice,   September 
22nd. 

The  year  1840  was  destined  to  end  in  gloom, 
and  a  crisis  took  place  which  materially  affected 
his  prospects.  Hitherto  he  had  known  no  pecuniary 
cares.  His  father  was  a  partner  in  a  flourishing 
mercantile  house,  and  although  he  was  precise  and 
careful  in  money  arrangements  with  his  sons,  he  does 
not  seem  to  have  stinted  them.  Suddenly,  without 
any  preliminary  warning,  it  was  discovered  that  a 
very  large  sum  of  money  had  been  misappropriated, 
quite  sufficient  to  put  the  credit  of  Johnston  &  Co. 
in  jeopardy,  if  not  to  ruin  them.  Mrs.  Butler  had 
the  unpleasant  task  of  breaking  this  bad  news  to 
her  son  in  a  letter  dated  5th  November,  1840.  After 


i8  EARLY  YEARS  1818- 

a  few  lines  on  domestic  matters  she  introduces  the 
painful  subject  as, — "the  trial  which  I  am  now 
wishing  to  break  to  you,  the  all  but  total  ruin  of 
Bush  Lane." 

Having  now  broken  the  ice,  I  will  enter  more  into  detail, 
begging  you,  darling  son,  to  remember  that  no  fault  or  error 
attaches  to  your  beloved  father,  who  bears  his  share  of  the 
calamity  with  calm  and  manly  fortitude,  feeling  and  relying 
upon  the  affection  of  his  dearest  Will,  Paul,  and  Charles,  all 
now  approaching  the  age  when  their  influence  over  his  mind 
and  prospects  can  be  felt. 

No  time  was  lost  by  her  son  on  the  receipt  of 
this  bad  news,  in  devising  means  by  which  he 
might  maintain  himself,  and  so  relieve  his  parents 
of  any  outlay  on  his  behalf.  Till  the  fortunes  of 
the  family  began  to  recover  he  supported  himself 
by  taking  pupils,  and  he  prepared  to  take  Holy 
Orders  as  soon  as  possible. 

W.  J.  B.  TO  HIS  MOTHER. 

[Undated.] 

As  this  is  the  fourth  letter  I  have  been  writing  this  morning, 
you  must  not  expect  it  to  be  very  long.  I  was  very  much 
obliged  for  your  long  letter,  which  gave  me  a  very  good  idea  of 
the  state  of  things,  and  which  I  have  duly  forwarded  to  Paul. 

I  think  Mr.  J 's  a  very  timely  offer.     I  had  a  most  kind 

letter  from   Mr.    G ,    who    says    that    he    is    proud   to   be 

called  the  friend  of  such  a  man  as  my  father.  He  also  sent 
me  an  enormous  brace  of  birds,  and  I  took  the  opportunity 
to  send  these  to  Aunt — with  a  letter,  which  brought  me  back 
next  day  a  most  kind  reply.  I  will  enclose  it  for  you,  as  I 
think  it  may  show  you  that  her  zeal  has  not,  as  you  feared 
it  might,  tired  itself  out.  I  have  got  two  whole  pupils  for 
the  Christmas  vacation,  which  puts  £20  into  my  pocket.  I 


1841  FACING   THE   FUTURE  19 

am  sadly  afraid  I  shall  not  be  able  to  visit  you  at  all  pleasantly 
till  after  the  14th  of  next  month,  so  that  you  must  not  expect 
me  on  Christmas  day,  though  if  it  seem  at  all  feasible  or 
judicious,  I  certainly  will  be  at  Southgate.  After  that  time 
I  shall  be  free  from  pupils  for  a  week  or  so,  and  my  mind 
will  be  more  unoccupied.  At  present  I  am  as  busy  as  a 
bee.  I  had  an  offer  of  a  perpetual  curacy  of  .£70  a  year  at 
Halifax,  but  I  think  that  this  will  not  be  worth  my  while, 
without  the  certainty  of  two  or  three  pupils  at  £200  a-piece, 
and  Halifax  is  so  disagreeable  a  town,  that  I  should  not  get 
them.  The  only  spoke  in  the  wheel  for  a  Chaplaincy l  is 
that  to  be  eligible  it  is  necessary  to  be  in  orders,  so  that  I 
am  exerting  all  my  powers  to  get  a  title  in  or  near  Cambridge, 
or  a  Sunday  duty  within  reach,  and  I  have  written  to  Mr. 
Gwilt  on  the  subject.  Mr.  Barnett's  is  a  most  delightful 
letter.  I  have  not  had  so  much  pleasure  for  a  long  time  as 

in  reading  it.   ...     I  think  that  Mr.   acts  like  a  fool. 

It  is  very  easy  for  a  man  to  be  thought  an  oracle,  when  he 
has  plenty  of  money  to  enforce  his  opinions.  I  must  now 
return  to  Bullinger  and  Transubstantiation,  and  with  love  to 
my  dear  father,  Fanny,  Anna,  and  Charley,  I  am,  dearest 
mamma,  ever  your  affectionate  son, 

W.  J.  BUTLER. 

His  father  wrote  to  him  at  the  end  of  the  year. 

December  30,  1840. 

MY  DEAREST  WILL, — I  have  had  so  many  events  to  meet 
of  late  that  I  have  had  hardly  courage  to  sit  down  and  write 
to  you,  nor  can  I  do  so  now  at  length ;  but  I  cannot  help 
now  telling  you  how  much  I  have  felt  the  tender  love  and 
affection  which  you  have  shown  me  under  the  circumstances 
in  which  I  have  been  placed,  and  what  a  blessing  it  has  been 
to  us  all  to  be  allied  to  one  who  fills  in  so  exemplary  a 
manner  every  duty  of  life.  I  leave  to  your  dear  mother 
and  sisters  the  detail  of  passing  events.  My  chief  object  in 
writing  is  to  request  you  to  address  a  letter  to  Messrs.  H. 
&  I.  Johnston  &  Co.,  authorising  them  to  pay  over  to  me 

1  Of  the  College.  (?) 


20  EARLY  YEARS  1818- 

the  sum  of  £500  deposited  in  your  name  with  the  late  firm 
of  Johnston,  Butler,  &  Son,  by  Charles  Shadwell ;  the  meaning 
of  this  I  will  explain  more  fully  hereafter.  ...  I  am  to 
have  a  third  instead  of  a  half  of  the  profits,  which  is  as 
much  as  I  could  reasonably  expect  considering  the  large  sum 
which  I  am  unable  to  pay  of  my  share  of  losses,  and  I  can 
only  expect  a  very  small  income  for  some  time  to  come ; 
still  it  is  better  than  being  cast  on  the  world  to  struggle  for 
a  subsistence.  My  health  has  kept  up  better  than  I  could 
have  expected. 

The  fortunes  of  the  house  of  Johnston  &  Co. 
revived  under  Mr.  Butler's  able  management,  and 
with  the  assistance  of  friends,  who  had  the  fullest 
confidence  in  his  integrity  and  ability,  he  succeeded 
in  placing  it  on  the  road  to  a  higher  level  of  pros- 
perity than  before. 


1841 


CHAPTER   II. 
THE  BEGINNING  OF  WORK. 

IN  view  of  his  approaching  ordination,  as  we  have 
already  seen,  William  Butler  had  begun  to  seek 
for  a  title  for  Holy  Orders.  Through  a  cousin  he 
obtained  an  introduction  to  the  Rev.  Charles 
Dyson,  Rector  of  Dogmersfield  in  Hampshire.  Mr. 
Dyson  was  a  man  of  great  learning  and  ability  ; 
he  had  been  a  Scholar  of  Corpus,  where  he  became 
the  intimate  friend  of  John  Keble,  Arnold,  and 
J.  T.  Coleridge.  Dean  Stanley  in  his  life  of  Dr. 
Arnold,  says  of  Charles  Dyson  that  his  "  remarkable 
love  for  historical  and  geographical  research,  and 
his  proficiency  in  it,  with  his  clear  judgement, 
quiet  humour,  and  mildness  in  communicating  infor- 
mation made  him  particularly  attractive  to  Arnold." 
But  his  religious  views  were  those  of  Keble  and 
Newman,  and  he  was  a  firm  though  quiet  sup- 
porter of  the  "  Oxford  Movement."  At  the  age  of 
twenty-four  he  became  Rawlinsonian  Professor  of 
Anglo-Saxon  at  the  University  of  Oxford,  but  he 
relinquished  this  post  in  1816  when  he  took  orders, 


22  THE    BEGINNING   OF   WORK  1841- 

and  after  holding  livings  in  Yorkshire  and  Essex, 
he  was  presented  to  Dogmersfield  in  1836,  and 
there  remained  till  his  death  in  1860.  "  He  was 
an  admirable  parish  priest,  and  a  man  of  deep 
learning,  though  he  shrank  from  authorship."1  There 
can  be  no  doubt  that  he  exercised  a  great  influence 
over  William  Butler's  mind,  and  that  to  his  example 
and  instruction  much  of  his  curate's  successful  work 
was  due. 

THE  REV.  CHARLES  DYSON  TO  W.  J.  B. 

DOGMERSFIELD,  February  9,  1841, 
HARTFORD  BRIDGE. 

DEAR  SIR, — You  will  naturally  have  expected  some  com- 
munication before  this,  touching  the  curacy  of  Dogmersfield ; 
but  owing  to  my  total  inability  to  do  anything  personally 
during  this  unfortunate  weather,  we  have  had  more  difficulties 
about  houses,  etc.,  than  I  anticipated;  and  it  was  indeed  only 
on  Sunday  afternoon  that  Mr.  Lefroy  (my  present  curate) 
gave  me  any  information  that  we  could  act  upon :  yesterday, 
I  am  sorry  to  say,  was  one  of  my  drooping  days. 

First,  respecting  the  time  of  entering  upon  the  curacy.  I 
wrote  to  the  bishop  the  day  after  you  left  us,  to  enquire 
whether  he  could  grant  letters  dimissory  in  case  his  own 
ordination  was  too  late.  His  answer  was  that  his  ordination 
would  not  take  place  before  July,  and  that  he  never  gave 
letters  dimissory  unless  under  particular  circumstances,  which 
did  not  apply  to  your  case.  Mr.  Lefroy,  however,  kindly 
undertook  to  sound  him  again  at  an  interview  he  was  to  have 
with  him  about  other  matters.  This  interview  he  had  on 
Saturday  last.  The  bishop  was  still  firm  in  his  refusal  about 
letters  dimissory ;  but  good-naturedly  said  he  would  provide 
for  the  Sunday  duty  during  Mr.  Lefroy 's  absence  in  May. 
I  believe  we  shall  have  no  difficulty  about  the  duty  till  the 
time  of  ordination  in  July.  For  in  May  I  trust  to  be  equal 
to  the  parochial  charge  myself. 

1  Diet.  Nat.  Biog.  "  C.  Dyson." 


1846  LETTER   FROM    REV.   C.    DYSON  23 

Secondly,  as  to  houses,  we  have  had  more  delays  about  them 
than  was  expected.  .  .  .  Word  was  sent  me  on  Saturday 
that  we  could  have  one  at  Odiham,  which  might  do  for  pupils  : 
and  on  Sunday  Mr.  Lefroy  brought  me  information  that  he 
had  found  one  at  Crondall  (the  village  where  his  family  live) 
which  he  thought  would  suit  you  completely,  at  a  rent  of 
£24.  This  of  all  the  houses  that  have  been  mentioned  to 
us  seems  most  desirable,  as  being  nearest  to  the  church  and 
village  ;  distant  two  miles  and  two  miles  and  a  half  respectively. 
You  have  now  all  the  information  I  can  give  you  at  present, 
and  all  indeed  that  is  immediately  necessary  to  your  decision 
about  your  plans.  I  think,  however,  I  should  treat  neither 
you  nor  my  parish  fairly  if  I  did  not  set  before  you  for 
very  serious  consideration  a  doubt  that  has  suggested  itself 
to  my  own  thoughts,  and,  as  I  find  in  conversation,  to  the 
thoughts  of  others ;  it  is  this.  Whether  under  the  circum- 
stances of  your  just  entering  so  responsible  a  profession,  with 
so  slight  a  preparation  for  its  demands  and  duties  as  you 
candidly  acknowledged  when  here,  it  would  be  advisable  to 
encumber  yourself  with  pupils  for  the  first  year  or  two,  during 
your  professional  engagements.  I  believe  I  speak  the  sentiments 
of  experienced  men,  when  I  suggest  that  you  will  find  it 
difficult  to  combine  the  management  of  pupils  even  with 
professional  reading;  a  difficulty  that  will  be  much  enhanced 
if  joined  with  the  care  of  a  parish,  however  small,  at  a  distance. 
For  though  I  trust  that  during  the  summer  months  I  shall 
be  able  to  help  you  much,  both  in  parochial  and  Sunday 
duties,  I  fear  I  cannot  promise  great  assistance  in  the  pulpit, 
that  being  the  difficult  matter  to  my  weak  lungs.  In  winter, 
I  must  if  I  follow  the  advice  of  my  physician,  leave  the 
parish  entirely  to  your  charge,  in  all  points  at  least  that 
require  personal  attendance.  If  you  would  take  this  suggestion 
into  your  serious  consideration,  and  decide  accordingly  to  begin 
without  pupils,  you  will  find  it  less  difficult  to  suit  yourself 
with  a  residence,  and  what  is  more  to  be  valued,  more  able 
to  give  up  your  time  to  your  profession.  Then  after  some 
experience  of  its  demands,  you  will  be  better  able  to  judge 
of  its  compatibility  with  the  care  of  pupils.  There  is  always 
much  to  learn  in  the  entrance  of  any  profession,  and  I  do 
not  know  that  this  ought  to  be  considered  less  exacting  than 


24  THE   BEGINNING    OF  WORK  1841- 

any  other,  where  there  is  so  much  to  be  done,  so  much  to 
be  accounted  for.  There  may  be  circumstances  of  another 
kind,  however,  that  require  you  to  decide  otherwise;  and  it 
would  be  an  intrusion  on  my  part  to  enter  on  any  considera- 
tion about  them.1 

As  a  good  deal  of  time  has  necessarily  been  disposed  of  in 
our  enquiries  and  difficulties  here,  it  would  be  a  convenience 
to  me  if  you  could  come  to  an  early  decision  and  communicate 
it  to  me.  If  you  decide  to  give  me  your  assistance,  such 
decision  will  enable  me  to  be  useful  on  many  interesting 
points.  If  you  decide  against  it,  it  will  enable  me  to  look 
to  other  quarters  for  help.  In  either  case  the  sooner  the 
better. 

Butler  wrote  to  a  relation  in  January  1841  : 

.  .  .  For  the  last  two  or  three  weeks  my  thoughts  have 
been  mainly  employed  on  the  subject  of  Holy  Orders,  and  the 
deep  and  fearful  responsibility  therewith  connected.  Most 
truly  do  I  feel  my  own  incorn potency,  though  most  desirous 
and  willing  to  do  my  duty,  and  the  great  advantage  of  be- 
ginning my  labours  under  the  tuition  of  Mr.  Dyson.  But 
as  I  am  entirely  at  present  dependent  upon  myself,  and  as 
I  cannot  say  when  those  whom  I  love  far  more  dearly  than 
myself  may  to  a  certain  extent  be  also  dependent  upon  me, 
and  also  as  it  would  be  a  sorry  return  for  Mr.  Dyson's 
kindness  to  saddle  his  parish  with  a  pauper  curate,  I  was 
anxious,  before  I  gave  a  definite  answer,  to  make  myself  sure 
in  the  matter  of  pupils.  ...  I  am  almost  certain  of  having 
two  pupils,  though  if  I  have  but  one,  I  will  not  hesitate  to 
accept  so  agreeable  a  situation. 

He  was  ordained  Deacon  at  the  ensuing  July 
ordination,  and  took  a  house  in  the  neighbouring 
parish  of  Crondall. 

While    here    he   became   acquainted   through   the 

1  The  straitened  means  of  the  Butler  family  were  found  to  make 
the  taking  of  pupils  a  necessity,  and  in  the  long  run  this  did  not 
interfere  with  his  parochial  duties. 


1846  ORDAINED    PRIEST  25 

Dysons  with  several  of  their  friends  who  had  taken 
part  in  the  Oxford  Movement,  such  as  John  Keble, 
H.  E.  Manning,  Henry  Wilberforce,  and  Charles 
Marriott.  There  can  be  no  doubt  that  this  had  a 
powerful  effect  in  determining  the  character  of  his 
religious  convictions,  and  under  Mr.  Dyson  he  formed 
a  very  high  conception  of  a  clergyman's  duties  and 
the  responsibility  of  his  office. 

A  letter  from  one  of  his  sisters  describes  his 
ordination  as  Priest  at  Farnham  Castle. 

CRONDALL,  July  11,  1842. 

We  left  this  at  a  little  after  nine  yesterday  morning.  The 
morning  was  bright  and  beautiful,  but  none  of  us  talked  much, 
as  we  were  thinking  of  solemn  things.  .  .  .  About  half  to 
eleven  we  set  off  for  the  Castle.  It  was  an  odd  sight  to  see 
troops  of  men  in  gowns  and  hoods  winding  up  the  steep  hill. 
(One  deacon  was  lame.)  When  we  got  up  the  hill  a  laughable 
sight  presented  itself.  The  deacon  out  of  the  trap  putting  on 
his  gown  and  hood  under  the  hedge,  like  a  professional  hedge- 
preacher.  The  simple  vestry  work  over,  we  four  clomb  the 
hill,  the  deacon  following  looking  very  grave.  Then  we 
marched  through  a  long  room,  deacons  and  priests  on  either 
side  in  gowns  and  hoods,  some  M.A.,  some  B.A.,  to  the 
drawing  room.  There  we  (ladies)  sat  down  and  then  Mr. 
Jacob  came  flitting  about  to  arrange  the  candidates  for  or- 
dination. ...  At  eleven  precisely  the  people  were  all  settled 
in  their  places.  I  saw  very  well  where  I  was  placed.  Mr. 

(who  apes  the  bishop)  read  the  morning  service.     Then 

Dr.    Dealtry   "  praught "   a   long   sermon    with    little    meaning 

in  it,   but   looked   triumphant   at  intervals.    .    .    .     We 

had  luncheon  at  the  Castle,  and  then  returned  to  Miss  Barlow's, 
being  too  tired  body  and  mind  to  go  to  afternoon  service. 
They  were  most  kind  to  us,  and  made  us  stay  and  dine  with 
them ;  at  half-past  six  we  went  to  evening  service  at  Farnham 
church,  and  on  our  return  we  found  William  returned  from 
the  Castle. 


26  THE   BEGINNING   OF  WORK  1841- 

In  the  course  of  this  year  he  became  engaged 
to  his  second  cousin,  Miss  Emma  Barnett,  daughter 
of  George  Henry  Barnett,  Esq.,  head  of  the  banking 
firm  of  Barnett,  Hoare  &  Co.  Mrs.  Barnett  was 
the  daughter  of  Stratford  Canning,  and  sister  of 
Lord  Stratford  de  Kedcliffe,  and  of  William  Canning, 
Canon  of  Windsor,  who  afterwards  presented  his 
niece's  husband  to  the  living  of  Wantage.  To  make 
the  connexion  more  intelligible  it  may  be  said 
that  William  Butler's  maternal  grandfather,  Capt. 
Kobert  Patrick,  was  brother  of  Miss  Barnett's 
maternal  grandmother,  Mrs.  Stratford  Canning. 

His  old  friend  C.  J.  Vaughan  wrote  on  hearing 
of  his  approaching  marriage  : 

May  16,  1843. 

Do  not  be  angry  with  me  for  offering  you  my  heartiest 
congratulations  on  the  prospect  of  your  marriage,  which  I 
believe  will  be  a  real  blessing  to  you,  so  far  from  thinking 
the  contrary.  And  pray  do  not  be  above  marrying  with 
pupils.  I  am  sure  my  brother  is  as  happy  as  a  man  can 
be,  though  he  takes  pupils. 

Shortly  before  his  marriage  he  moved  from 
Dogmersfield  to  the  curacy  of  Puttenham,  near 
Guildford,  where  he  had  the  sole  charge  of  the 
parish,  and  continued  to  take  pupils.  On  the  29th 

July,    1843,    his    marriage   took    place    at    Putney,1 

• 

1  The  newly  married  couple  visited  Hursley  on  their  way  to 
France.  Mr.  Keble  wrote  to  his  brother,  Rev.  T.  Keble  : 

H.  V.,  Aug.  1,  1843. 

.  .  .  We  are  here  quite  in  the  bridal  line.  .  .  .  Behold  at  church 
were  Mr.  Butler,  Dyson's  late  curate,  and  his  bride,  Miss  Emma 


1846 


INCUMBENT   OF   WARESIDE 


27 


where    his    eldest   son,  Arthur   John,   was  born   the 
following  year. 

In  1844  he  was  appointed  as  first  incumbent 
of  the  newly  formed  parish  of  Wareside  which  had 
been  previously  part  of  the  extensive  parish  of 
Ware.  Through  the  exertions  of  a  former  vicar 
of  Ware,  the  Rev.  H.  Coddington,  a  chapel 
dedicated  to  the  Holy  Trinity  had  been  built  at 
a  cost  of  £1,800,  to  accommodate  400  people.  The 
population  was  about  700.  As  there  was  no  glebe 
house,  William  Butler  took  a  house  in  the  adjoining 
parish  of  Amwell.  Some  extracts  from  his  private 
diary  will  give  an  idea  of  his  life  at  Wareside,  and 
of  the  spirit  in  which  he  devoted  all  his  powers 
of  mind  and  body  to  his  parishioners'  welfare,  at 
the  very  outset  of  his  life  as  a  parish  priest. 

Things  in  my  parish  have  now  got  into  some  train.  Our 
schools  are  working.  The  people  seem  to  feel  that  they  have 
a  minister  and  church.  Our  Clothing  Club  numbers  140. 
We  have  visited  every  parishioner,  and  on  the  whole  there 
seems  a  fair  spirit  of  obedience  to  the  Church,  and  desire  to 
be  taught  and  act.  My  great  difficulty  is,  of  course,  the  lack 
of  a  dwelling  on  the  spot,  which,  although  I  do  not  dislike 
the  drive  there  and  back,  yet  cannot  but  put  me  in  a  great 
degree  in  the  footing  of  a  stranger  to  those  among  whom  I 
ought  to  be  most  familiar. 

.  .  .  This  is  the  1st  [sic]  Sunday  after  Christmas  Day, 
the  continuation,  as  it  were,  of  the  Feast  of  Circumcision.  Of 
course,  I  felt  myself  bound  to  preach  as  well  as  I  could,  in 
allusion  to  that  feast,  but  then  came  the  difficulty.  Here  am 


Barnett  that  was,  who  did  us  the  honour  of  including  us  in  their 
wedding  tour  ;  so  I  shewed  them  round  the  parish,  and  very  nice 
folk  they  be  or  seem  to  be. 


28  THE   BEGINNING   OF   WORK  1841- 

I  in  a  parish  of  which,  I  am  sure,  nine-tenths  understand  not 
a  single  word  of  the  event  in  question,  intricate  too  to  explain, 
embarrassed  with  allusions  to  the  Jewish  Law,  of  which, 
perhaps,  all  were  ignorant.  Yet  it  is  impossible  to  pass  these 
things,  these  great  feasts,  carelessly  over;  it  is  really  too  much 
for  the  conscience  to  be  talking  of  irrelevant  matters  when 
these  great  acts  of  our  redemption  are  concerned.  The  people 
here  seem  hardly  to  feel  Christmas  Day.  I  observed  that  they 
wore  their  working-day  clothes,  and  a  very  scanty  attendance 
at  church  in  proportion  to  that  on  Sundays.  This  seems 
to  be  the  case  very  generally  throughout  the  country.  The 
people  have  utterly  lost  sight  of  the  great  Christian  feasts, 
and  with  them  the  knowledge  of  the  mighty  events  they 
celebrated.  The  Popish  ways  may  be  all  very  bad,  but  at 
least  they  teach  something  of  the  grounds  of  our  faith 
and  salvation.  The  religion  of  the  English  peasant  is  all 
confined  to  generalities.  It  consists  pretty  nearly  in  this : 
A  general  notion  that  Christ  died  for  sinners,  but  of  Christi 
His  Nature  or  Person,  absolutely  nothing,  nor  how  He  died, 
nor  for  what  kind  of  sinners ;  that  it  is  all  right  to  go  to 
church  on  Sundays,  perhaps  better  twice ;  that  we  are  all 
sinners,  none  better  than  his  neighbours,  but  as  to  any  con- 
fession of  particular  sin  it  irritates  them  to  be  exhorted  to  it; 
utterly  no  notion  of  self-denial  for  almsgiving,  no  notion  of 
earnest  hearty  prayer,  nor  of  giving  the  attention,  and  striving 
to  make  out  and  practise  the  preacher's  words.  I  do  not 
mean  to  say  that  this,  even  this,  is  the  worst  temper  of  mind 
with  which  a  minister  can  have  to  deal,  or  even  that  all  are 
of  it,  but  that,  this  being  the  case,  it  becomes  particularly 
hard  to  teach.  You  can  never,  or  very  hardly,  find  any 
foundation  to  rest  on.  If  you  talk  of  the  Jewish  Church, 
they  really  associate  no  ideas  with  it ;  of  the  Apostles,  I  doubt 
whether  they  know  in  the  least  who  they  are;  of  Jacob, 
Isaac,  Abraham,  they  are  equally  ignorant.  They  do,  perhaps, 
know  who  Adam  and  Eve  were,  and  why  they  were  driven 
from  Paradise ;  also  of  the  Flood,  but  all  the  rest  of  the  Old 
Testament  is  absolutely  a  dead  letter  to  them.  They  hardly 
hear,  certainly  do  not  understand,  one  out  of  twenty  lessons. 
In  fact,  it  seems  as  if  our  Protestant  mode  of  reading  huge 
masses  of  Scripture  were  utterly  defeating  its  own  aim.  The 


1846  PROBLEMS  29 

poor  do  not  for  the  most  part  know  the  Bible.  Ask  any  one 
what  the  lessons  were  about,  any  Sunday  you  please,  and  you 
will  soon  find  the  truth  of  my  words.  So  this  morning  I  had 
to  explain  as  well  as  I  could,  though  I  feel  most  imperfectly 
the  whole  matter.  I  began  a  sermon  last  night,  but  was  so 
dissatisfied  with  it  that  I  threw  it  bodily  into  the  fire  at  past 
eight  o'clock.  It  seemed  so  unlike  what  a  sermon  should  be 
to  be  giving  a  bald  account  of  the  Institution  of  the  Law ; 
going  from  Adam  through  the  whole  of  the  Bible  in  twelve  or 
fourteen  pages  seemed  really  too  absurd.  As  it  was,  I  con- 
tracted my  account  very  much,  merely  stating  that  the 
Circumcision  was  the  initiatory  rite  to  the  Jewish  Law, 
which  Law,  I  said,  was  given  to  the  Jews  to  keep  them 
from  the  heathen  and  to  point  to  the  Messiah.  The  Messiah 
(now  I  am  sure  they  did  not  understand  this)  destroyed  this 
Law  in  fulfilling  it,  and  thereby  left  us  an  example  of  obedi- 
ence, as  well  as  by  the  course  of  doing  so  working  out  our 
salvation.  This  was  the  tenor  of  my  sermon.  The  men's 
side,  as  usual,  was  full,  but  I  cannot  get  the  women  to  attend 
church  in  the  morning.  Twenty  women  is  an  average.  They 
naturally  stay  at  home  to  cook  their  husbands'  dinners,  or 
fancy  that  they  do.  The  most  of  these  who  do  come  have 
husbands,  who,  I  suppose,  want  their  dinners  as  much  as  the 
others. 

The  present  incumbent,  the  Eev.  Robert  Higgens, 
has  noted  down  some  "  recollections "  gleaned  from 
old  Wareside  parishioners. 

The  last  entry  by  Mr.  Butler  in  the  Kegister  of  Baptisms  is 
November  10,  1846. 

Walter  Tween,  the  churchwarden,  to  whom  Butler's  "  Sermons 
for  Working  Men  "  are  dedicated,  removed  from  the  New  House, 
Wareside,  after  the  death  of  his  father,  soon  after  Mr.  Butler  left. 
He  has  ever  since  resided  at  Widford.  Walter  Tween,  now 
upwards  of  eighty  years  of  age,  ever  speaks  of  Mr.  Butler  in 
enthusiastic  and  affectionate  terms.  The  other  day,  since  the 
death  of  the  Dean  and  Mrs.  Butler,  I  paid  Walter  Tween  a  visit. 
Personal  recollections  came  up  at  hazard,  as,  "  I  went  on  a  visit 
to  Mr.  Butler  at  Wantage.  The  next  day  was  a  general  fast 


30  THE  BEGINNING  OF  WORK  1841- 

day.  'Now,  Walter,  you  will  have  nothing  but  bread  and  salt 
to-morrow.  I  don't  call  it  a  fast  to  have  salt  fish  and  sauce, 
and  then  other  things  as  well.'  So  nothing  but  bread  and  salt 
we  had,  but  they  did  not  seem  to  mind  it." 

When  the  Dean  visited  me  on  the  occasion  of  our  Church 
Jubilee  in  1891,  he  went  to  see  Walter  Tween.  Walter  told 
me  how  he  seemed  to  be  just  the  Mr.  Butler  of  old  times. 

All  the  old  people  remember  Mrs.  Butler  as  actively  sharing 
in  her  husband's  labours.  The  old  women  say  she  was  such  a 
plain  lady,  not,  however,  at  all  referring  to  her  features,  or  to 
plainness  or  directness  of  talk,  but  to  the  simplicity  of  her 
attire,  silently  rebuking  feminine  vanity.  On  my  coming  here 
as  incumbent  in  1855,  I  found  a  godson  of  Mrs.  Butler's 
characteristically  named  "Alban"  Blake.  The  names  of  most 
of  the  god-parents  were  set  down  in  the  baptismal  register. 

We  had  orders  annually  to  provide  a  suit  of  clothes  for  Alban 
up  to  his  confirmation  time. 

Of  those  who  looked  forward  with  great  interest  to  the  Dean's 
visit  at  the  Church  Jubilee  in  1891,  none  was  so  eager  as  Charles 

K .  He  had  been,  as  a  young  man,  scholar  in  the  night  school 

when  Mr.  Butler  lived  at  Castlebury,  in  the  latter  part  of  his 
time.  Charles  seemed  as  though  he  could  not  enough  testify 
his  satisfaction  when  he  saw  his  old  clergyman  again.  The  Dean 
well  remembered  him.  A  particular  spelling  lesson  lingered  in 
his  memory  :  "  Now,  Charles,  a,  x,  e,  what  does  that  spell  ? " 
"  Surely,"  says  Charles  to  himself,  "  I  do  not  know  justly,  but 
it  must  be  some  tool  that  I  use ;  a,  x,  e — bill ! " 

Then  we  have,  living  now  in  her  90th  year,  the  original 

caretaker  and  factotum  of  the  church,  Mrs.  S .  She  held  office 

from  1841  to  1882 — a  woman  not  without  her  good  qualities, 
being  honest  and  trustworthy,  but  somewhat  tart  in  speech. 
She  remembers  how  Mr.  Butler  would  come  down  from  Castle- 
bury,  for  very  early  service,  with  his  lantern,  lighting  along  the 
little  flock  he  had  gathered  on  the  way. 

The  beginning  of  a  correspondence  with  Mr.  Keble 
dates  from  this  period. 


1846  LETTER   FROM    REV.   J.    KEBLE  31 

REV.  J.  KEBLE  TO  W.  J.  B. 

HUESLEY  VICARAGE,  July  28,  1845. 

MY  DEAR  MR.  BUTLER, — I  return  you  Mr. 's  letters,  and 

also  the  queries  of  the  pseudo  Catholic,  for  both  which,  specimens 
of  very  different  sorts,  I  am  much  obliged.  As  to  the  querist, 
I  felt  a  strong  inclination  to  help  him  to  one  question  more 
against  the  next  edition  :  viz.  (see  queries  7  and  1 4),  "  Do  you 
not  perceive  what  a  security  liberal  principles  are  against  ill 
tempers,  since  those  who  hold  them  may  use  words  which  sound 
like  sneering  (e.g.  Mr.  Deacon  Palmer's  polemics),  of  course 
without  any  'sourness'  at  all." 

I  sent  the  other  papers  to  Pusey  as  you  kindly  permitted  me, 
and  he  seems,  as  you  may  suppose,  greatly  pleased  with  them, 
especially  with  the  notion  in  one  of  them  about  making  a 
country  parson's  cottage  the  rudiments  of  a  sort  of  monastery. 
P.  expressed  a  little  surprise  that  one  should  encourage  a  man 
of  that  stamp  to  go  abroad  when  there  is  so  much  to  be  done 
at  home.  He  is  always  very  jealous  on  that  score.  I  mentioned 
also  to  him  your  suggestion  about  a  "  Retreat,"  which  he  heartily 
enters  into,  and  thinks  Isaac  Williams  the  person  for  it,  and  his 
neighbourhood  the  place.  I  mean  shortly  to  start  it  to  Isaac, 
but  I  am  a  little  afraid  of  his  shrinking  from  it  for  some  reasons. 
Probably  we  shall  go  to  Bisley  soon,  and  then  it  may  be  all 
talked  over.  I  love  to  think  over  the  day  you  spent  with  us. 
God  grant  that  all  may  go  on  as  you  wish  ;  and  I  hope  you  will 
go  among  many  old  croakers,  and  do  them  as  much  good  as  you 
did  me. 

My  wife,  I  think,  is  a  little  more  hearty  than  she  was  then. 
Mr.  Parker  left  us  this  morning,  taking  Netley  on  his  way  to 
London.  With  our  very  kind  regards,  believe  me,  yours  ever 
affectionately,  J.  KEBLE. 

You  left  a  sermon  of  Pusey's  here.  If  you  will  get  another  I 
will  pay  for  it  through  the  Dysons. 

MRS.  C.  DYSON  TO  W.  J.  B. 

DOGMERSFIELD,  Nov.    18,  [1845]. 

.  .  .  For  yourself,  dear  W.,  what  more  can  your  friends 
wish  for  you  than  that  you  should  feel,  as  you  now  do,  the  fear 


32  THE   BEGINNING   OF   WORK  1841- 

of  clinging  too  much  to  domestic  happiness,  and  the  benefit  of 
being  sometimes  deprived  of  it?  ...  It  is  a  great  comfort 
in  the  fierce  storm  we  are  passing  through  to  know  what  you 
say  of  yourself.  Every  one  who  weathers  a  point  seems  to  be 
now  a  great  help  to  others,  in  spite  of  all  the  subdivisions  of 
opinion  amongst  them.  .  .  . 

W.  J.  B.  TO  REV.  J.  KEBLE. 

CASTLE  BURY,  NEAR  WARE, 
December  16,  1845. 

MY  DEAR  SIR, — I  have  been  very  anxious  to  write  to  you  for 
some  months  past,  almost  ever  since  our  visit  to  Hursley  in 
the  summer.  But  chiefly,  I  believe,  because  I  did  not  like  to 
trouble  you  at  this  particular  time,  both  on  account  of  the 
time  of  sorrow  and  doubtfulness,  and  especially  when  we  heard 
so  poor  an  account  of  dear  Mrs.  Keble,  I  have  always  put  it  off. 

Now,  however,  I  am  driven  to  write  by  a  pressing  note 
from  Burns  for  the  enclosed  sermons  which  have  been  some 
time  in  type.  In  the  summer  you  kindly  promised  to  look 
at  them,  and  advise  me  of  any  serious  blunder,  of  which 
I  do  not  feel  at  all  secure.  They  are  written  to  supply  the 
wants  of  my  own  parish,  who  are  perhaps  more  than  usually 
uneducated.  And  yet,  when  I  came  to  examine  others, 
servants,  small  shopkeepers,  and  the  like,  I  found  so  dense 
an  ignorance  on  all  religious  subjects,  and  so  much  misap- 
prehension and  distortion  of  important  truths,  words  seeming 
to  have  literally  no  meaning  in  their  mouths,  that  I  hope 
they  may  be  useful  to  others.  I  have  rather  endeavoured  to 
place  pictures  before  them,  and  to  make  them  realise  what  I 
talked  about,  so  that  they  might  talk  about  it  among  them- 
selves when  they  get  home.  If  you  think  that  they  are 
likely  to  do  harm,  or  even  not  to  do  good,  I  am  sure  I 
should  not  wish  to  add  to  the  great  floating  capital  of  sermons 
in  print.  Recent  matters  certainly,  in  a  degree,  alter  the 
interest  one  takes  in  a  work  of  the  kind,  making  one  write 
with  less  certainty,  and  entirely  doing  away  with  the  esprit 
de  corps  feeling,  yet  as  I  do  not  know  why  I  am  not  what 
I  have  always  supposed  I  was,  a  Minister  of  the  English 
Church,  I  suppose  I  ought  to  try  to  do  the  best  I  can  as 


1846  DESIRE    FOR  A   RETREAT  33 

such.  Connected  with  this  is  the  other  matter,  about  which 
I  meant  very  much  to  ask  you,  the  "Retreat."  I  am  certain 
that  hardly  a  day  has  passed  on  which  it  has  not  come 
forcibly  before  me.  If  we  are  to  be  a  Church,  surely  our 
clergy  must  become  holy.  And  I  know  personally  a  very  large 
number  who,  partly  from  defective  superintendence,  partly 
from  natural  badness,  passed  the  whole  time  of  school  and 
college  in  a  most  reckless  and  unholy  way.  Then  perhaps 
in  a  year,  without  any  sort  of  cur/c^o-is,  but  merely  the  repent- 
ance of  a  heart  not  knowing  its  own  sinfulness  and  yet  not 
wholly  devilish,  they  were  ordained.  Many  of  these,  my  own 
personal  friends,  are  now  repenting  most  bitterly ;  their  sins 
are  lying  like  a  heavy  load  upon  them,  and  torturing  them 
indescribably.  They  long  to  confess  and  go  through  some 
prescribed  penance.  .  .  .  And  of  course,  the  same  feeling  of  the 
weight  of  unrepented  sin  hinders  them  very  much  in  their 
daily  work.  Sinful  recollections  are  not  cleared  away.  They 
seem  to  recur  in  the  most  holy  seasons.  Prayers  are 
deadened.  And  it  seems  gross  hypocrisy  to  be  talking  to 
others,  and  trying  to  raise  them  to  a  high  standard  of 
religious  feeling.  And  independently  of  all  this,  I  can  only 
say  for  myself  that  I  am  in  the  greatest  fear  of  having  all 
my  work  secularised.  The  constant  dealing  with  holy  things 
without  any  intermission  of  prayer  and  watchfulness  and 
fasting  and  self-examination  I  find  most  hardening.  Mr. 
Butterfield  said  to  me  the  other  day  that  it  startled  him  to 
see  how  little  reverence  for  holy  places  was  in  men  who 
profess  High  Church  principles,  and  who  certainly  started 
with  it. 

I  am  sure  that  the  requisite  money  would  be  provided  at 
once,  if  only  some  one  who  could  be  relied  upon  would  take 
the  thing  up.  If  Mr.  Isaac  Williams  or  Mr.  Marriott  would 
but  take  a  house  and  let  men  come  to  it  for  five  or  six  or 
eight  weeks  every  year,  I  suppose  in  different  parties,  according 
as  it  suited,  the  whole  seems  provided  for.  And  really  one 
does  not  see  how  our  priests  are  to  be  made  hoi}'  in  any 
other  way. 

Pray  forgive  me  for  troubling  you  with  all  this.  But  it  is 
very  near  my  heart,  and  I  feel  almost  hopeless  of  myself  unless 
I  can  tear  myself  from  the  routine  of  work  and  get  under 

c 


34  THE    BEGINNING   OF   WORK  1841- 

some  rule  of  life  from  time  to  time.  And  I  know  that  it  is 
the  case  with  so  many  others  Of  the  men  of  my  standing  at 
Cambridge  I  think  very  few  escaped,  and  I  should  think  it 
was  much  the  same  at  Oxford.  And  how  is  it  possible  for 
the  work  of  such  not  to  be  inherently  rotten?  I  feel  very 
much  ashamed  of  sending  all  this  to  you. 

My  wife  and  myself  are  very  anxious  to  hear  of  Mrs.  Keble. 
As  Dogmersfield  has  not  said  anything  lately,  we  concluded 
that  she  was  better.  Pray  remember  us  both  most  kindly  to 
her,  although  this  does  not  half  express  what  we  should  like 
to  say.  A.  is  growing  a  fat,  strong  boy. 

I  need  not  say  that  the  more  faults  found  the  more  thankful 
I  shall  be. 

KEY.  J.  KEBLE  TO  W.  J.  B. 

Ash  Wednesday,  1846. 

As  I  hear  you  have  been  in  Oxford,  I  daresay  you  have 
long  ago  obtained  an  answer  to  the  inquiry  which  you  sent 
me,  far  more  satisfactory  than  I  can  send.  Why  I  have  been 
so  tardy  I  can  scarce  say ;  except  that  it  is  I.  Marriott  wrote 
me  word  that  he  thought  something  in  the  nature  of  a  Eetreat 
might  be  managed  at  Leeds,  under  the  clergy  of  St.  Saviour's. 
But  failing  that  he  seemed  to  say  it  was  not  impossible  that 
he  might  be  able  to  do  something  towards  such  a  plan,  especially 
if  a  negotiation  succeeded  which  he  was  then  engaged  in  with 
Newman  for  the  loan  of  the  house  at  Littlemore.  You  probably 
saw  him,  and  know  all  this  better  than  I  do;  and  know  also 
that  our  dear  Isaac  Williams  is  in  such  a  state  as  to  make  it 
impossible  to  look  to  him;  though  his  decline  is  very  gradual, 
and  the  last  accounts  have  seemed  as  if  he  were  a  little  better : 
but  the  doctors  think  the  same  as  before  of  the  case. 

If  you  attend  the  meetings  of  the  C.C.S.,1  or  are  in  corre- 
spondence with  them,  I  should  be  glad  of  a  private  answer  to 
this  question :  Whether  a  church  built  of  rough  granite  had 
better  have  its  quoins  of  Caen  stone  or  of  granite  ashlar,  the 
windows  being  Caen  stone? 

Cambridge  Camden  Society. 


1846  NEED    OF   SPIRITUAL   HELP  35 

W.  J.  B.  TO  REV.  J.  KEBLE. 

CASTLE  BURY,  WARE,  March  5,  1846. 

I  am  sure  you  need  not  apologise  for  not  writing  a  reply 
to  such  as  me.  But  I  hope  you  will  be  so  good  on  a  future 
occasion  when  you  should  have  cause  to  do  so,  as  to  say  how 
you  yourself  are,  for  I  only  heard  by  accident  from  one  whom 
I  saw  on  Sunday,  that  you  had  been  confined  to  your  room 
for  some  time.  I  enclose  you  two  opinions  on  the  question  you 
propose,  which  you  will  see  coincide  both  in  argument  and 
conclusion.  One  is  from  Butterfield  (1),  the  other  (2)  from 
Webb,  acting  pro  C.C.S.,  on  an  official  sheet.  Neither  of  them 
knows  for  whom  I  ask  the  question.  So  that  I  hope  you  will  be 
satisfied  on  this  point.  I  was  in  Oxford  for  but  one  day,  and 
that  was  spent  entirely  in  one  place.  Indeed,  I  went  there 
merely  to  see  Dr.  Pusey,  and  to  be  away  from  every  one ;  I 
don't  know  why  I  should  hesitate  to  mention  it  to  you ;  to  make 
a  general  confession  to  him.  Of  course  my  thoughts  were  on 
this  one  subject,  and  though  I  had  said  something  to  him  some 
days  before  in  London  about  the  Retreat,  yet  we  did  not  recur 
to  it.  I  can  only  say  that  I  feel  more  than  ever  anxious  to 
see  something  of  the  kind  established.  I  believe  it  would  save 
directly  and  indirectly  many  souls,  raising  the  fallen,  and 
strengthening  those  that  stand.  For  now  that  it  is  beginning 
to  be  comparatively  common  for  men  to  make  a  general 
confession,  it  becomes  a  very  serious  question,  as  it  seems  to 
me,  what  they  are  to  do  for  the  future.  As  far  as  I  know, 
though  many  are  desirous  to  make  a  confession,  and  to  continue 
it  as  a  habit  through  life,  the  thing  is  all  but  impossible.  Those 
few  who  are  in  the  habit  of  taking  general  confessions  are  fully 
occupied  without  the  addition  of  having  to  act  as  constant 
spiritual  guides.  But  men  might  go  to  a  Retreat  periodically, 
and  there  receive  the  advantage  of  regular  confession,  and  the 
continual  preparation  for  it.  When  the  eye  is  not  single  it  seems 
very  fearful  to  have  to  guide  oneself.  Pray  forgive  me  for  saying 
all  this,  but  I  feel  it  so  strongly  that  I  could  not  help  it,  as 
you  mentioned  the  subject.  Littlemore  would,  I  should  think, 
be  the  very  place.  ...  I  am  going  shortly  to  trouble  you 
with  a  few  more  sermons,  but  I  hope  you  will  not  hesitate,  if 
you  think  good,  to  send  them  back  unread. 


36  THE   BEGINNING   OF   WORK  1841- 

We  are  on  the  point  of  beginning  our  house.  My  wife  begs 
to  be  very  affectionately  remembered  to  Mrs.  Keble  and  yourself. 
Our  little  ones  are  very  hearty,  and  A.'s  hair  is  as  curly  as 
ever. 

June,  1846,  brought  the  offer  of  Wantage,  a  living 
in  the  gift  of  the  Dean  and  Chapter  of  Windsor, 
vacant  by  the  death  of  the  Hon.  H.  L.  Hobart,  D.D., 
Dean  of  Windsor,  which  was  made  by  Mrs.  Butler's 
uncle,  William  Canning,  Canon  of  Windsor.  The 
living  was  a  good  one  from  a  pecuniary  point  of 
view,  and  had  been  held  for  a  century  and  a  half  by 
non-resident  vicars,  who  placed  a  curate  in  the 
vicarage  on  a  very  modest  stipend.  The  place,  an 
ancient  little  market  town  lying  on  the  northern 
edge  of  the  Berkshire  Downs,  offered  few  attractions 
except  the  opportunity  which  it  gave  of  hard  work 
for  the  Church  on  "  Tractarian  "  principles.  It  had, 
however,  been  the  birthplace  of  two  eminent  English- 
men— King  Alfred  and  Bishop  Butler.  This  gave 
the  place,  insignificant  in  itself,  a  certain  distinction. 
Letters  written  at  the  time  give  William  Butler's 
first  impressions  of  the  future  scene  of  his  labours, 
and  the  misgivings  and  anxieties  with  which  he 
entered  on  wThat  proved  to  be  the  chief  work  of  his 
life. 

\V.  J.  B.  TO  HIS  WIFE. 

BEAK  IKN,  WANTAGE, 
Sunday  Evening  [June,  1846]. 

.  .  .  My  friend  here  is  "Boots,"  a  most  agreeable  person- 
age, who  lionised  me  over  the  town,  and  with  whom  I 
confer  on  train  lists,  etc.  I  suspect  he  guesses  my  errand, 
for  he  just  informed  me  confidentially  that  he  heard  great 


1846  FIRST   IMPRESSIONS   OF   WANTAGE  37 

praise  of  my  performance  this  morning.  Sexton  in  gallery 
declared  he  heard  the  words  as  clear  as  if  he  was  close  to  me. 
I  mention  this  because  one  wants  rather  to  know  what 
impression  a  most  deliberate  intonation  produces  in  a  new 
place.  ...  At  the  station  when  I  got  my  ticket  a  young 
man,  hearing  me  ask  for  Faringdon  Road,  asked  if  I  were 
going  to  Wantage.  He  was.  I  thought  I  might  pick  him  a 
little,  and  so  we  joined  company.  But  he  knew  very  little 
about  it.  He  was  a  banker's  clerk,  seemed  simple-minded 
and  good;  we  took  a  gig  together  from  Faringdon  Road  to 
Wantage.  I  paid  chiefly,  but  saved  something  by  this 
arrangement.  Arrived  here  at  twelve.  Took  a  glass  of  ale 
and  went  to  bed,  tired  as  many  cats.  This  morning  I  got  up 

early  and  indited  a  note  to  Mr.  B ,l  explaining  my  case.     He 

answered  me  very  kindly,  asking  me  to  dinner,  etc.  He  is  a  very 
short  fat  little  man,  perhaps  fifty-six  years  of  age  or  less,  very 
kind  and  hospitable,  with  a  good  deal  of  general  knowledge 
and  fun  about  him.  I  like  him  very  much  indeed.  I  took 
morning  service.  Really,  at  times,  owing  to  the  strange 
differences  in  singing,  the  slovenly  way  of  conducting  the 
services,  the  Communion  service  from  reading  desk,  etc.,  I 
hardly  knew  what  I  was  doing.  It  seemed  so  very  odd  to 

end  with  the  Nicene  Creed.     B 's  sermon  was  drier  than 

hay.  Not  a  word  of  sense  in  it.  I  only  wonder  so  many 
people  can  sit  through  such  discourses.  I  was  as  fidgety  as 
possible,  and  were  I  likely  to  undergo  such  things  continually 
I  must  join  one  of  the  sects  with  which  Wantage  is  rife. 
Lengthy,  too.  "This  leads  me  to  consider,"  and  all  that. 
Sermon  over  I  went  to  his  house.  I  wished  to  preach  in  the 
evening  solely  to  escape  another  of  these  preachments.  But 
I  thought  I  might  be  caught  out  if  I  praught  from  type,  so, 
after  considering  the  pros  and  cons,  I  determined  not.  ...  I 

dined  with  Mr.  B .     After  dinner  we  walked  to  Grove,  in 

the  patronage  of  Wantage.  The  church  and  parsonage  were 
built  by  Dr.  Cotton,  of  Worcester.  And  who,  think  you,  is 
the  incumbent1?  Mr.  Simcox  Bricknell,  the  man  who  wrote 
circulars  about  the  Tractarians.  He  was  at  home,  and  not  a 
bad  fellow  after  all.  Now  it  is  past  eleven.  To-morrow  I 
shall  leave  this  at  a  half  to  seven,  get  to  Didcot,  thence  to 
1  The  curate  in  charge. 


38  THE   BEGINNING   OF  WORK  1841- 

Oxford,  where  I  shall  call  on  Dr.  Pusey.  Then  to  Reading, 
whence  I  shall  to  Dogmersfield.  .  .  .  There  will  be  a 
terrible  coil  about  building.  There  is  scarcely  any  glebe. 
Garden  is  sunk ;  churchyard  cramped ;  house  stands  very  low ; 
air  is  bracing,  so  you  will  grow  fat.  Wantage  Downs  are 
famous.  I  like  the  looks  of  the  people.  They  speak  a  very 
rough  dialect.  If  we  have  this  it  mil  make  a  strange  difference 
in  our  way  of  living,  not  our  household  arrangements,  but  in 
all  our  thoughts  and  ways.  I  tremble  to  think  of  it.  And 
yet,  on  the  whole,  I  rather  hope  my  advisers  will  bid  me  take 

it.    If have  it,  he  will  not  reside.    He  came  here  immediately 

after  the  Dean's  death  and  saw  Mr.  B .     This  is,  of  course, 

a  consideration.  I  can  no  more.  This  is  horrid  rubbish,  but 
my  pen  has  been  steaming  along. 

P.S. — I  have  seen  Dr.  Pusey.  He  rests  on  Mr.  Dyson,  but 
considers  it  doubtful  \vhether  I  ought  to  leave  my  present 
charge. 

W.  J.  B.  TO  J.  L.  BUTLER,  ESQ. 

[June  29,  1846.] 

MY  DEAR  FATHER, — I  wished  to  get  Mr.  Dyson's  letter  before 
writing  to  you  again.  We  seemed  to  have  exhausted  all  argu- 
ments on  both  sides  of  the  question,  all  that  remained  being  the 
actual  decision.  Mr.  Dyson  writes  thus :  "  So  far  from  altering 
the  view  I  took  respecting  your  acceptance  of  Wantage,  recon- 
sideration only  confirms  me  in  the  opinion  I  gave  you  when 
here,  that  on  the  balance  of  pros  and  cons  it  was  advisable 
that  you  should  accept  it.  It  was,  indeed,  chiefly  on  the 
consideration  of  the  very  great  usefulness  to  that  large  parish 
.  .  .  that  I  thought  it  advisable  for  you  to  give  up  your 
present  charge  at  Wareside  in  exchange  for  Wantage.  It 
certainly  gives  you  a  noble  opportunity  of  doing  God  service 
through  His  Church,  and  acting  on  essential  Church  principles. 
At  the  same  time  I  must  say  that,  unless  I  were  confident  you 
would  act  on  such  principles  both  conscientiously  and  judiciously, 
in  a  spirit  of  charity  and  moderation  as  well  as  zeal,  I  would 
never  advise  you  to  undertake  it.  Under  a  different  spirit  such 
a  parish  would  be  a  continual  source  of  regret  and  discomfort 
to  one  of  your  disposition.  I  anticipate  also  a  most  important 


1846  ACCEPTANCE   OF   WANTAGE  39 

benefit  to  yourself  in  the  larger  opportunity  you  will  have  for 
professional  reading  and  self-communication  when  your  time 
and  thoughts  will  be  less  distracted  by  so  many  demands  from 
pupils  as  you  now  have.  I  take  it  for  granted,  in  saying  this, 
that  you  will  have  a  good  staff  of  curates  to  share  your  labours 
and  give  you  room  for  rest."  He  writes  on  most  kindly  and 
sensibly,  but  this  is  the  gist  of  his  letter.  So  that  I  now  hesitate 
no  longer.  I  wrote  to  Mr.  Canning  by  this  morning's  post  to 
advise  him  of  this,  and  I  shall  expect  to  hear  very  soon  from 
the  Chapter  Clerk.  I  saw  the  Bishop  of  Oxford  on  Friday  at 
the  House  of  Lords.  He  was  very  kind  and  bland,  and  told 
me  distinctly  that  he  thought  I  ought  to  accept  the  charge, 
looking  on  it  as  a  sort  of  call.  Also  he  perfectly  agreed  to  my 
intention  of  remaining  here  for  some  months  to  come.  In  the 
course  of  a  few  weeks  I  shall  go  there  again,  and  make  various 
inquiries  about  the  condition  of  the  house,  dilapidations,  etc. 


W.  J.  B.  TO 


AM  WELL,  WARE,  July  9,  1846. 

...  In  this  matter  of  Wantage  it  seems  to  me  strange 
that  you  should  not  understand  how  very  serious  a  thing  it  is 
for  one  like  myself,  only  28  years  old,  and  very  much  off  the 
sort  of  study  and  preparation  which  a  country  town  needs,  to 
take  upon  myself  the  care  of  3000  souls,  living  souls,  to 
prepare  for  eternity.  It  certainly  seems  strange  that  you  should 
not  understand  that  a  state  of  doubtfulness  must  come  over 
me,  fear  for  my  own  soul,  and  consideration  for  others.  How 
am  I  to  solve  my  doubts  1  Could  such  considerations  as  position, 
income,  and  the  like  come  for  a  moment  into  calculation  ?  First 
Death,  then  the  Judgement.  What  have  position  in  this  miserable 
world,  income,  comforts,  to  do  with  such  as  these?  .  .  . 
And  then  you  do  not  understand  that  we  should  feel  grief  at 
leaving  a  work  in  which  we  delight,  and  terror  (I  do  not  regret 
the  word)  in  undertaking  so  fearful  a  work  as  the  charge  of 
3000  souls,  who  at  present  are  in  a  most  unsatisfactory  condition. 
How  little  can  you  know  of  the  condition  of  these  market 
towns.  They  are  the  very  most  troublesome,  most  painful  spots 


40  THE   BEGINNING   OF  WORK  1841- 

of  Christ's  Heritage,  the  Church  in  England.  Not  a  clergyman 
engaged  in  them  but  will  tell  you  that  his  heart  sinks  within 
him.  And  who  am  I,  to  take  such  a  labour  on  myself?  As  for 
"  seeing  difficulties  "  and  the  like,  it  would  be  worse  than  foolish 
to  shut  my  eyes  to  them.  I  do  see  the  difficulties,  and  I  only 
pray  that  I  may  see  them  tenfold  more  strongly  than  I  do. 
This  does  not  in  the  least  imply  that  I  shall  not  work  hard  to 
overcome  them.  Of  course  I  shall.  But  naturally  the  prospect 
makes  me  sad  and  thoughtful.  ...  I  own  I  dread  the 
congratulations  of  my  friends  on  an  occasion  which  involves  so 
fearful  a  responsibility.  And  if  I  were  to  appear  to  hug  them, 
I  should  only  be  deceitful.  Let  my  friends  comfort  me,  pray 
for  me,  advise  me,  make  allowances  for  me,  but  not  congratulate 
me  as  though  I  had  gained  a  great  step  in  life.  When  Death  and 
Judgement,  Heaven  and  Hell,  are  the  matters  in  consideration, 
both  for  myself  and  so  many  others,  ought  I  not  to  have  done 
as  I  have  done — shunned  to  the  greatest  possible  degree  every 
worldly  question  ?  And  now  to  the  course  of  life  which  I  look 
to  pursue  at  Wantage.  I  shall  indeed  try  to  become  far  more 
self-denying  than  I  have  ever  been  before.  I  shall  certainly 
spend  what  money  I  have  altogether  on  the  place,  and  I  shall 
try  to  get  two  or  three  men  with  me  who  will  thoroughly 
sympathise  and  work  with  me.  If  I  am  fit  for  such  a  work, 
it  is  quite  clear  that  I  ought  to  be  able  to  guide  myself,  or  rather 
to  know  where  to  seek  for  guidance.  And  as  I  have  taken  Mr. 
Dyson's  advice  in  one  point,  it  would  be  foolish  and  wrong  not 
to  carry  it  out. 

W.  J.  B.  TO  REV.  J.  KEBLE. 

AMWELL,  WAKE,  July  22,  1846. 

I  thank  you  very  much  for  thinking  of  me  and  mine.  It  is 
indeed  a  strengthening  to  have  the  good  wishes  of  so  many 
and  such,  but  I  am  nevertheless  very  much  oppressed  with  the 
prospect  of  Wantage.  I  thought  at  one  time  that  I  should 
like  work  of  this  kind,  but  now  that  it  has  come  to  me  I  dread 
it  very  much.  So  many  difficult  points  seem  to  arise — how 
much  to  do,  how  much  not  to  do;  how  to  encourage  a  Catholic 
^0os  under  the  disadvantage  of  Protestant  or  Puritan  ways, 
and  then  that  whole  class  of  questions  which  connect  them- 


1846          'BUTLER  OF  WANTAGE'  41 

selves  with  Dissenters.  And  then  one  feels  so  much  fear  as 
to  how  best  to  begin,  whether  to  start  strenuously  and  try  to 
gain  something  in  this  way,  or  to  wait  and  watch  opportunities. 
I  am  not  going  to  "Wantage  till  Christmas,  which  will  give  me 
some  time  for  reflection,  and  also  enable  me  to  leave  this 
place  more  satisfactorily.  Next  Monday  my  wife,  youngsters, 
and  I  myself  go  to  Dogmersfield,  she  to  remain  a  fortnight 
there,  while  I  go  to  Littlemore.  I  shall  return  to  Dogmers- 
field on  Monday,  August  10.  We  should  like  very  much  to 
spend  a  day  at  Hursley,  if  you  could  take  us  in.  And  we 
could  bring  or  leave  our  little  ones  as  would  be  most  con- 
venient to  you  and  Mrs.  Keble.  .  .  .  May  I  trouble  you 
to  look  at  the  enclosed  ? 

My  wife  desires  me  to  say  how  often  she  thinks  of  the 
kindness  of  Mrs.  Keble  and  yourself.  A.  has  quite  outgrown 
babyhood. 

REV.  J.  KEBLE  TO  W.  J.  B. 

HUKSLEY,  Aug.  3,  1846. 

Forgive  my  not  answering  you  sooner.  I  cannot  say  that  I 
have  much  excuse,  for  I  have  had  a  sort  of  sore  throat  which 
has  kept  me  from  duty,  and  pretty  much  at  home,  so  that  I 
had  not  much  to  do  besides  answering  letters.  But  somehow 
it  has  crept  on  from  day  to  day.  I  don't  wonder  at  your 
many  musings  about  Wantage,  but  I  feel  so  sure  that  you  are 
right  in  going  there,  that  I  cannot  doubt  your  being  guided, 
from  day  to  day,  and  from  week  to  week,  to  the  right  course 
of  proceeding.  It  is  a  good  omen,  Butler  of  Wantage.  And 
Littlemore,  I  trust,  will  be  a  good  preparation  for  it.  We 
shall  be  very  glad  to  see  you  here  next  week,  if  you  can 
manage  it;  but,  unfortunately,  we  are  unable  to  give  you 
much  choice  of  time.  I  am  going,  I  believe,  to  Leamington 
on  Monday,  the  10th,  for  one  day  only,  and  on  the  13th  we 
rather  expect  some  of  the  Irish  Lefroys,  who  will  fill  our 
house;  so  that  you  seem  put  up  between  the  llth  and  12th,  if 
it  must  be  that  week.  If  those  days,  or  any  part  of  them,  will 
suit  you,  we  shall  be  very  glad  to  see  you,  all  four. 

I  have  read  your  sermons l  twice  over,  with  much  interest, 
1  Sermons  for  Working  Men.  Masters.  1847. 


42  THE   BEGINNING   OF   WORK  1841- 

and  have  made  a  few  corrections  which  I  hope  will  not  puzzle 
you  or  the  printer.  I  should  say  that  some  of  the  sentences 
would  be  the  better  for  shortening.  I  will  just  ask  you  in 
reference  to  what  you  say  in  p.  92  as  to  the  mystical  inter- 
pretation— Should  you  not  suppose  it  in  the  present  rather  a 
matter  of  tradition  from  the  Apostles,  however  the  details  of 
it  are  the  reward  of  holy  lives  and  persevering  study  1 

I  am  very  desirous  of  finding  someone  who  will  undertake 
the  Curacy  of  Shoreditch  under  an  old  friend  of  mine,  an 
excellent  but  a  very  nervous  fellow — the  stipend  £100  a 
year  with  a  house  said  to  be  worth  £50 — only  it  is  very 
uncomfortable,  as  I  daresay  you  know,  from  the  JFare-ishness 
of  the  people,  as  well  as  the  hard  work.  If  someone  would 
have  the  same  mind  with  which  you  go  to  Wantage,  that 
would  be  just  the  thing.  How  glad  I  should  be  if  you  did 
happen  to  know  of  any  one.  Will  it  be  giving  you  too  much 
trouble  to  inquire  at  Cambridge  for  me. 

W.  J.  B.  TO  KEY.  J.  KEBLE. 

LITTLEMORE,  Friday  [Aug.,  1846]. 

Thank  you  very  much  for  your  kind  words  and  the  trouble 
you  have  taken  for  my  sermons.  I  fear  that  I  shall  not  be  able 
to  get  the  corrections  (much  as  they  are  wanted)  made  in  p.  86, 
for  that  sermon  is  the  fair  proof,  after  the  revise,  merely  printed 
off  to  fill  up  the  sheet.  Not  having  my  books  about  me  I  really 
cannot  find  whence  I  got  that  mystical  interpretation.  My  im- 
pression is  that  some  outline  of  it  struck  me  some  time  ago,  but 
that  I  feared  to  write  it  till  I  found  it  confirmed.  If  I  mistake 
not,  the  same  view  is  more  or  less  worked  out  in  '  the  Nativity.' 
I  do  feel  it  the  greatest  comfort  in  this  Wantage  business  that  I 
am  not  following  my  own  guidance,  and  that  so  many  hold  one 
view  on  the  subject.  If  only  I  am  strong  enough  for  it  (I  don't 
mean  ph}rsically),  it  is  of  course  important  for  the  spread  of  true 
Church  principles  that  I  should  not  decline  it,  being  that  probably 
it  would  be  passed  on  to  some  other  views.  I  have  long  felt, 
though  I  never  thought  myself  fit  but  for  the  very  smallest 
approach  to  such  a  work,  that  farmers  and  shopkeepers  should  be 
leavened  with  the  Church.  At  present  they  are  heathens  in  all 
but  one  thing.  Marriott's  College  seems  the  way  of  doing  it, 


1846  A   CAMBRIDGE    HOSPITIUM  43 

giving  these  classes  a  vested  interest,  so  to  speak,  in  the  clergy. 
I  cannot  help  thinking  that  the  domestic  influence  of  the  clergy  is 
what  really  tells,  or  at  least  tells  most.  One  may  see  this  in 
the  upper  ranks,  where  a  son  in  Holy  Orders  will  leaven  a  whole 
'  gens.'  And  one  should  suppose  that  the  same  would  tell  with 
even  greater  force  in  the  lower  and  less  educated  classes.  But  I 
cannot  help  thinking  that  a  parish  priest  may,  if  he  have  the 
right  way  of  setting  to  work,  manage  a  good  deal  of  this.  I  am 
not  quite  sure  whether  '  Butler  of  Wantage '  is  not,  on  a  calcula- 
tion of  chances,  against  me.  One  should  suppose  that  he  would 
exhaust  the  powers  of  Wantage  to  produce  Butlers,  and  that 
future  B.'s  would  [be]  the  poorest  of  their  species. 

All  this  time  I  have  not  said  that  the  two  days  which  you 
mention  are  the  very  two  that  suit  us  best — Tuesday  and  Wed- 
nesday— and  we  will  find  our  way  to  Hursley  by  an  afternoon 
train.  I  must  leave  this  to  my  wife  to  settle,  as  she  knows  the 
trains  and  I  do  not.  She  will  write.  I  have  enjoyed  my  time 
here  very  much. 

On  reading  your  letter  again,  I  see  I  mistook  your  words.  I 
thought  you  asked  whence  it  came  1  I  see  now  that  you  warn 
me  against  a  '  blundering '  way  of  putting  it,  which  shall  be  cor- 
rected. I  will  write  to  Cambridge,  but  Shoreditch  will  frighten 
most  men. 

W.  J.  B.  TO  REV.  J.  KEBLE. 

CASTLE  BURY,  WARE,  Nov.  17,  1846. 

May  I  ask  you  to  cast  your  eye  over  the  enclosed?  I  feel 
rather  doubtful  whether  in  endeavouring  to  make  things  plain  and 
popular  I  am  not  grounding  too  much  on  illustration.  I  was  at 
Cambridge  a  few  weeks  since,  and  I  tried  to  get  some  men  to 
work  up  a  cheap  hostelry  to  be  connected  with  a  College  as 
Colleges  are  with  the  University.  This  seems  feasible  enough, 
for  all  Colleges  at  Cambridge  admit  men  lodging  in  the  town, 
and  I  do  not  well  see  how,  when  they  license  every  tradesman 
or  other  who  applies,  they  could  refuse  a  clergyman.  This  is 
all  that  would  be  required  from  the  authorities,  and  with  this 
any  one  willing  for  the  work  might  take  a  house  and  work  his 
men  as  he  pleased;  of  course,  seeing  that  they  attended  Hall 
and  Chapel  and  kept  to  the  other  duties  of  their  College. 
Marriott  wrote  to  me  suggesting  an  old  building  called  the 


44  THE   BEGINNING   OF  WORK  1841- 

School  of  Pythagoras  for  some  such  purpose.  But  we  could  not 
get  this,  and  on  the  whole  I  did  not  see  much  spirit  at  Cambridge 
to  commence  an  undertaking  of  the  kind.  Cambridge  is  as  "  flat " 
as  possible.  Some  of  those  from  whom  I  expected  most  are 
taking  up  queer  original  views  of  their  own,  as  it  were  to  hold 
Church  views  without  the  odium  connected  with  them,  drawing 
some  little  difference,  just  enough  to  say,  "I  don't  agree 
with  so-and-so."  I  came  away  more  disheartened  than  I  ever 
remember  myself  before.  Cams  and  his  friends  are  active 
enough  in  their  way,  and  no  doubt  keep  up  a  certain  degree 
of  morality  and  piety.  But  then  a  very  large  body  of  men 
never  can  feel  with  them,  and  these  are  left  without  guide 
or  comfort.  .  .  .  We  go  to  Wantage  after  Christmas. 

REV.  J.  KEBLE  TO  W.  J.  B. 

HURSLEY,  Nov.  18,  1846. 

It  does  not  seem  to  me  that  in  this  sheet  at  least  you  have 
fallen  into  the  error  which  you  apprehend.  And  I  should 
suppose  that  your  fear  of  it  will  be  a  great  security  against  it. 
To  a  certain  extent,  I  suppose  it  was  intended  that  each  person 
should  have  his  own  impressions  from  the  Parables  and  similes 
of  Scriptures,  as  in  life  from  the  very  things  themselves ;  and 
that  those  impressions,  being  communicated,  should  do  good. 
I  don't  remember  anything  in  your  sermons  which  startles  one 
as  going  beyond  this. 

Your  notion  of  a  Cambridge  Hospitium  seems  a  very  good 
one.  I  trust  it  will  be  borne  in  mind.  If  your  friends  with 
the  "  queer  views  "  will  only  act  as  such  an  institution  requires, 
I  think  we  may  bear  with  their  little  distinctions,  which  are 
but  too  natural  in  these  times,  when  hardly  two  Churchmen 
speak  alike. 

All  good  be  with  you,  your  family,  your  parishes,  and  your 
successor,  the  thought  of  whom  must  be  a  great  comfort  to  you. 
Thank  you  for  mentioning  A. 

MRS.  C.  DYSON  TO  W.  J.  B. 

[Probably  about  Christmas,  1846.] 

.  .  .  Thank  you,  from  my  heart,  for  your  greetings  of  the 
season,  and  for  your  gift  of  the  Prayers,  which  seem  to  me 


1846  PRIVATE   PRAYERS   FOR  THE   POOR  45 

more  suitable  than  any  collection  we  have  seen ;  and  the 
prefatory  rules  must  be  useful.  Such  a  collection,  I  suppose, 
always  requires  that  the  people  should  be  trained  beforehand 
to  wish  for  it,  as  your  people  would  be.  Our  curate  observed 
that  he  wished  the  print  were  larger,  because  the  persons  most 
likely  to  use  the  Prayers  may  have  to  use  it  in  the  dusk,  and 
he  finds  the  bad  print  of  good  books  is  really  a  great  hindrance 
with  the  poor.  However,  in  the  case  of  daily  Prayers  it  may 
be  supposed  they  will  soon  be  learnt  by  heart.  In  the  case 
of  such  books  as  Dr.  Hook's  Meditations  for  Every  Day,  which 
seems  in  itself  so  good,  it  is  a  great  objection.  Of  course,  the 
answer  is,  the  expense. 

We  understand  your  misgivings  about  Wantage.  But  those 
who  know  you  well  do  not  misgive — certainly  not  the  Nest.1 
There  must  be  much  to  dishearten,  but  still  a  little  done,  a 
few  good  Church-people  trained,  is  a  great  thing  in  such  a 
place.  .  .  .  That  poor  dear  Wareside  will  always  be  a  pleasant 
spot  in  your  memory.  Perhaps  it  would  have  been  too  much 
of  a  romance  not  to  be  a  snare,  had  it  gone  on  as  hitherto ; 
anyhow  it  is  pleasant  to  know  and  think  of.  ... 

1  A  pet  name  among  the  Dysons'  friends  for  Dogmersfield  Rectory. 


CHAPTER  III. 
TROUBLED  TIMES. 

THE  new  vicar  took  up  his  residence  in  Wantage 
in  the  beginning  of  1847,  and  was  alone  there  for 
a  few  weeks  while  the  old  vicarage  (dating,  it  is 
said,  from  the  sixteenth  century)  was  being  made 
habitable  for  his  wife  and  children.  Wantage 
possesses  a  severe,  though  healthy,  climate,  and  he 
suffered  considerably  from  cold  and  general  discomfort 
during  those  early  days,  while  he  was  trying  to 
devise  the  best  means  of  solving  the  many  problems 
that  lay  before  him. 

W.  J.  B.  TO  HIS  WIFE. 

[Jan.,  1847.] 

You  mustn't  grumble  at  work.  I  only  wish  you  were  at  Wan- 
tage just  now  and  you  would  see.  .  .  .  My  cold  changed,  or 
rather  superadded  influenza,  bad  taste  and  smell,  etc.,  but  on 
the  whole  I  am  better  to-day,  though  far  from  well.  V.  came,  to 
my  great  joy,  yesterday  at  dinner  time  and  we  walked  about  a 
little.  Fancy  the  difference  between  a  village  and  a  town ;  a 
funeral  and  baptism  on  Friday,  two  funerals  yesterday.  The 
number  of  deaths  since  Dec.  16  to  now  is  20;  this  is  more  than 
the  average,  about  one  a  week.  Then  the  horrid  apathy  and 


1847-1853  SETTING  TO   WORK  47 

irreverence  of  the  whole  concern,  the  crowd  of  idlers,  etc.,  made 
me  rather  down-hearted.  The  churchyard  is  in  an  abominable 
state.  It  ought  at  once  to  be  remedied,  so  noisy  and  unclean, 
with  long  rank  grass  all  over  it.  Bury  me  at  Wareside.  Railroad 
will  take  me  cheap.  After  two  or  three  false  starts  I  began  and 
wrote  a  sermon  which  under  all  circumstances  will  do,  I  hope.  I 
have  not  seen  the  churchwarden,  but  as  I  spoke  pretty  plainly  I 
shall  ask  him  if  it  were  too  plain.  You  shall  see  it.  V.  thought 
it  would  do  very  well.  We  began  Communion  service  from  altar. 
It  is  rather  lonely  work  without  a  soul  but  children  near  one.  I 
placed  V.  in  the  stalls.  Might  we  see  them  filled  one  day  with 
clergy  and  choir.  Those  stalls  really  are  a  great  point.  I  did  all 
the  morning  and  shall  leave  V.  to  do  all  the  afternoon  service.  I 
must  go  to  Oxford  this  week  to  be  appointed  surrogate,  which  is 
an  office  worth  £20  or  £25  per  annum — likewise  to  get  a  cassock. 
.  .  .  My  room  smokes  furiously,  and  I  have  been  obliged  to  sit 
with  window  open  all  this  day.  .  .  . 

This  is  much  the  coldest  house  I  ever  lived  in.  My  study  has 
never  been  as  high  as  '  temperate,'  and  bedroom,  in  spite  of  a  fire, 
is  so  cold  that  I  cannot  sleep. 

W.  J.  B.  TO  HIS  WIFE. 

[Jan.  31,  1847.] 

.  .  .  This  day  has  been  spent  between  visiting  and  being 
visited.  I  drove  over  to  Sparsholt  to  call  on  the  rural  dean.  He 
wrote  last  night  to  consult  me  about  one  or  two  points  connected 
with  a  letter  from  the  Bishop.  He,  however,  was  out,  but  his 
wife  was  at  home,  a  very  ladylike  sensible  and  kind  woman, 
whom,  I  think,  you  will  like.  .  .  .  Then,  as  usual,  I  visited  (1) 
the  Ham  people,  a  schoolmaster  with  a  commercial  school,  a 
respectable  pedagogue  who  might  start  A.,  if  need  be,  i.e.  if  you 
forget  your  Latin.  (2)  A  Roman  Catholic  family  named  Hunt, 
builders  in  Wantage.  I  sat  and  chatted  some  time.  When  I 
went  away  they  gave  me  their  card,  and  then  I  thought  it  right 
distinctly  to  tell  them  that  I  could  not  employ  them  in  church 
work.  I  explained  the  circumstances  and  left  them,  I  believe, 
quite  friendly.  (3)  An  old  maid  named  Aldworth,  reminding  me 

in  a  small  way  of  Miss  ,  and  seemingly  good  and  kind. 

(4)  A  'young  ladies"  academy,  etc.,  etc.     In  all  I  mooted  the 


48  TROUBLED   TIMES  1847- 

school  question,  and  all  seemed  to  agree  with  me  and  to  be  willing 
to  help.  The  congregation  of  yesterday  seems  to  have  been  the 
talk  of  the  place,  so  we  must  try  to  strike  while  the  iron  is  hot. 
.  .  .  Two  more  funerals  this  morning.  I  do  wish  we  had  some 
parish  books.  It  is  slow  work  copying  and  copying,  as  we  do 
now,  all  the  rough  notes  of  our  visiting,  without  the  satisfaction  of 
seeing  them  in  some  form.  V.  works  like  a  horse.  .  .  . 

REV.  J.  KEBLE  TO  W.  J.  B. 

HURSLEY,  Jan.  28,  1847. 

By  this  time  I  imagine  you  settled  at  Wantage  and  deep 
in  your  work;  wherein,  such  as  I  am,  I  would  desire  most 
heartily  to  bid  you  God-speed.  I  know  you  have  enough  and 
too  much  to  do;  yet  I  am  about  to  ask  two  favours  of  you, 
which  may  give  you  more  or  less  trouble.  They  both  relate 
more  or  less  to  our  dear  friend  Dr.  Pusey.  First,  do  you  by 
any  chance  know  of  a  person  whom  you  can  recommend  as  a 
fit  and  likely  successor  to  Mr.  "Ward  at  St.  Saviour's,  now  made 
vacant  in  such  a  heart-breaking  way  ?  You  know,  of  course, 
the  nature  of  the  place,  that  it  was  meant  to  be  a  sort  of  College 
of  Curates,  and  in  a  humble  way  an  effort  at  Anglican  asceticism. 
Now,  whoever  goes  must  go  with  a  consciousness  that  the  place 
is  under  a  sort  of  cloud,  and  that  whatever  sympathies  he  has 
with  Pusey  must  be  kept  under  jealous  control,  else  he  will 
never  be  able  to  go  on  with  the  vicar  of  Leeds.  Indeed,  I 
shall  tell  Pusey  that  if  the  choice  lies  between  an  ascetic  who 
will  be  suspected  and  an  ordinary  hard-working  curate  such  as 
Hook  would  approve  of,  I  should  recommend  the  latter,  under 
present  circumstances.  The  whole  affair  is  a  severe  stab  to 
Pusey ;  only  he  is  the  sort  of  person  whom  nothing  really  hurts. 
The  other  matter  is  a  plan  which  P.  and  Marriott  are 
starting  for  a  popular  commentary  on  the  whole  Scriptures,  on 
patristic  principles,  to  supersede  Scott  and  Henry's,  and  other 
such  ordinary  uncatholic  performances.  Do  you  think  you  could 
find  time  for  a  portion  of  it  1  It  might  very  well  serve  first  in 
the  way  of  catechetical  or  pulpit  exposition ;  and  it  will,  of 
course,  be  a  long  time  about,  so  that  you  might  take  your  time. 

We  have  this  day  begun  our  work  about  the  Church,  but  it 
will  be  very  slow  for  a  long  time. 


1853  SLOW   WORK  THE   RIGHT  WORK  49 

W.  J.  B.  TO  KEV.  J.  KEBLE. 

WANTAGE  VICARAGE,  BERKS, 
4th  S.  aft.  Ep.,  1846  [7]. 

I  was  not  at  Wantage  when  your  letter  arrived.  It  journeyed 
after  me  to  London,  and  reached  me  on  the  very  day  on  which  I 
set  out  to  fix  myself  here.  This  is  my  reason  for  the  delay 
in  answering  it.  Thank  you  most  deeply  for  all  your  kindness. 
Indeed  one  wants  wishes  and  more  than  wishes  in  such  a  work 
as  this  at  Wantage.  The  whole  population  is  ignorant  and 
apathetic,  and  some  of  their  ways,  after  dear  Wareside,  quite 
startle  me.  Yet  there  seems  some  sort  of  good  old-fashioned 
feeling  too,  and  so  far  I  have  met  with  great  kindness  from 
all.  V.  is  with  me,  and  this  is  our  first  Sunday.  There  are 
some  very  good  remains  in  the  church,  among  other  points 
eighteen  beautifully  carved  stalls  in  the  chancel.  Would  that 
I  could  fill  them  with  clergy  and  choir.  However,  I  must 
not  run  on  about  Wantage,  but  answer  your  two  questions.  .  .  . 
Touching  the  commentary,  I  should  be  very  glad  to  take  a  part, 
provided  my  work  were  carefully  revised  by  an  abler  hand  than 
myself,  and  that  I  had  time.  Whatever  I  do  must  be  in  the 
New  Testament,  for  my  knowledge  of  Hebrew  is  very  imperfect 
indeed,  the  very  least  possible. 

I  am  so  very  glad  to  hear  of  your  church  beginning.  Slow 
work  is,  I  suppose,  the  right  work.  At  least,  I  am  working 
myself  into  that  belief.  I  hope  that  you  will  be  able  to  receive 
us  in  the  summer,  and  that  we  shall  have  the  chance  of  seeing  it. 

...  I  have  directed  a  small  compilation  of  Working  Men's 
Prayers,  which  I  made  out  as  a  parting  present  to  Wareside,  to 
be  sent  to  you. 

REV.  C.  DYSON  TO  W.  J.  B. 

DOGMERSFIELD    RECTORY, 

HARTFORD  BRIDGE,  May  12,  1847. 

You  will  see  I  have  worked  myself  up  to  answer  your  note 
with  my  own  hand,  which  take  as  a  proof  that  I  set  some 
value  on  your  communication.  Had  you  sent  your  question 
about  teaching  or  suppressing  the  Church  Catechism  before  you 
had  the  Bishop's  reply,  I  should  have  said  decidedly,  Do  not 

D 


50  TROUBLED   TIMES  1847- 

give  up  the  Catechism.  If  yours  is  to  be  a  Church  school  that 
is  one  of  the  distinctive  marks  of  it.  Nor  do  I  think  you 
would  find  much  (if  any)  difficulty  with  Dissenting  parents  of 
children  who  come  to  the  school.  In  all  the  parishes  I  have 
been  charged  with  I  do  not  remember  any  objection  being 
made  by  Dissenters  to  teaching  their  children  the  Catechism, 
except  by  your  old  acquaintance,  John  Burrows,  the  blacksmith 
here;  and  he  gave  way  immediately.  But  since  you  asked  the 
Bishop's  advice  and  received  his  answer,  your  question  is 
entangled  with  more  difficulty.  Yet  after  considering  his 
answers,  which  seem  at  first  to  advise  the  suppression  of  the 
Church  Catechism  quoad  Dissenters'  children,  as  well  as  the 
respect  and  deference  due  to  him  after  consulting  him,  I  think  I 
see  a  way  by  which  you  may  follow  your  own  convictions  with- 
out offence.  The  first  answer  seems  to  me  to  be  so  qualified, 
and  limited  by  the  two  following  (for  if  "the  Dissenters  have 
nothing  to  do  with  the  school";  and  "the  tone  and  manage- 
ment of  the  school  are  to  be  essentially  Church,"  what  need  to 
make  any  break  in  the  school  teaching  for  a  supposed  possible 
objection  on  their  part?)  that  you  may  reasonably  take  the 
Bishop's  advice  as  permissive  and  not  injunctive ;  e.g.  he  sanctions 
your  conceding  the  point  if  advanced  by  the  Dissenters,  and  the 
school  cannot  be  accomplished  without  it;  but  does  not  recom- 
mend the  concession  without  such  necessity.  I  should  suppose, 
indeed,  that  he  would  be  really  glad  if  you  could  go  on  with  the 
school  without  it.  That  at  least  is  the  way  in  which  you  may 
quite  respectfully  take  his  advice.  .  .  . 

The  Ven.  Alfred  Pott,  Archdeacon  of  Berks,  gives 
his  recollections  of  William  Butler's  work  in  the 
Diocese  of  Oxford,  which  in  1847  had  recently 
come  under  the  vigorous  rule  of  Bishop  Samuel 
"Wilberforce. 

I  am  asked  to  put  on  paper  some  of  my  recollections  of  the 
work  of  Dean  Butler  in  the  Diocese  of  Oxford,  with  which  we 
were  both  associated  for  so  many  years.  From  the  time  that 
he  came  to  Wantage  until  the  time  of  his  leaving  it  we  were 
fellow-workers  in  almost  every  important  Diocesan  movement. 


1853         ARCHDEACON   POTT'S   RECOLLECTIONS  51 

My  own  intimacy  with  Bishop  Wilberforce  dated  from  the  period 
of  my  ordination  as  priest  at  Christmas,  1846,  and  Butler  took 
the  vicarage  of  Wantage,  I  think,  in  January,  1847.  I  well 
remember  his  coming  to  Cuddesdon  to  consult  the  Bishop  as  to 
his  accepting  the  vicarage.  I  was  a  young  curate,  and  he  not 
many  years  my  senior.  Of  his  parochial  work  it  is  not  for  me 
to  speak.  Others  more  closely  connected  with  him  in  that 
work  will  speak  of  the  wonderful  way  in  which  his  energy  and 
devotion  regenerated  the  dormant  spiritual  life  of  an  insignificant 
Berkshire  town,  and  raised  it  to  the  position  which  it  now  holds. 
I  remember  one  sentence  in  a  letter  of  Bishop  Wilberforce,  where 
he  says,  "  Butler's  work  is  amazing."  No  one  knew  better  than 
that  great  Bishop  how  to  pick  his  men,  and  to  make  them  all 
work  under  him  for  the  good  of  his  Diocese.  It  will  be  remem- 
bered how  in  those  years  that  Diocese  needed  entire  new  organiza- 
tion as  much  as  did  the  parish  of  Wantage.  Consisting,  as  it  had 
done  from  the  days  of  Henry  the  Eighth,  of  the  one  county  of 
Oxford,  and  even  that  curtailed  by  large  peculiars,  excepted  from 
the  Bishop's  jurisdiction,  the  See  had  been  occupied  by  a 
succession  of  prelates,  holding  with  the  bishopric  other  dignities, 
ecclesiastical  or  academical,  in  commendam,  to  make  up  the 
scanty  endowments  of  the  See.  Then,  among  the  many  changes 
of  our  own  day,  the  county  of  Berks  had  been  taken  from  the 
See  of  Salisbury,  in  the  later  years  of  Bishop  Bagot,  and  added 
to  Oxford.  And  similarly  the  county  of  Buckingham  was  taken 
from  Lincoln  and  thrown  into  Oxford  on  the  accession  of  Bishop 
Wilberforce.  It  needed  the  genius  of  a  statesman  to  consolidate 
these  heterogeneous  elements  into  one  organic  whole — still  more 
to  make  the  reality  of  Episcopal  influence  felt  through  every 
part  of  so  large  an  area.  The  Bishop  was  supported  by  a  noble 
body  of  officers.  His  Rural  Deans  especially  gathered  round  him 
(to  use  a  likeness  suggested  by  one  of  them)  like  Napoleon's 
marshals  round  the  Emperor.  Nearly  all  of  that  company  have 
passed  away.  While  they  continued,  Butler,  who  became  one 
of  the  body  soon  after  he  came  into  the  Diocese,  held  a  very 
prominent  place.  Younger  in  years  than  many  of  his  fellows, 
and  in  some  cases,  it  must  be  allowed,  looked  upon  with  a  slight 
measure  of  suspicion,  his  enthusiasm  and  energy,  and,  above  all, 
his  strong  common-sense,  soon  won  for  him  a  recognised  position. 
The  Bishop  himself  was  keenly  alive  to  his  value.  Butler  was 


5.2  TROUBLED   TIMES  1847- 

never  very  tolerant  of  carelessness  or  neglect  of  duty  in  those 
around  him,  and  this  in  itself  did  sometimes  provoke  impatient 
discontent  on  the  part  of  those  whose  slothfulness  was  rebuked 
by  his  activity.  I  remember  one  of  his  neighbours  complaining 
to  the  Bishop.  "  Mr.  Butler,  my  Lord,  seems  to  have  acquired 
an  undue  hold  upon  us.  Every  one  is  growing  to  look  upon  him 
as  the  one  authority  in  the  Deanery."  "  Indeed,"  replied  the 
Bishop,  "  I  am  truly  glad  to  hear  it ;  that  is  exactly  as  I  should 
wish  it  to  be." 

Among  the  many  instrumentalities  for  stirring  up  the  life  of  the 
Diocese,  Bishop  Wilberforce's  "missions"  occupied  a  prominent 
place.  The  missions  of  that  period  were  altogether  different  in 
their  organization  from  the  movements  known  by  that  name  now. 
They  were  held  usually  in  the  Lent  Ember  season.  The  Bishop 
would  gather  round  him  a  body  of  picked  clergy  of  various 
shades  of  religious  opinion,  some  from  his  own  Diocese,  some 
from  a  distance,  but  all  concentrated  in  some  one  important 
centre.  From  that  centre  they  radiated  to  every  neighbouring 
village  ready  to  receive  them,  the  Bishop  himself  usually  remaining 
at  the  centre,  himself  celebrating  Communion  daily  and  preaching 
several  times  during  the  week,  as  a  rule  opening  the  mission  with 
a  sermon  on  the  first  Sunday  of  the  Ember  week,  and  closing 
it  with  an  evening  sermon  on  the  last  Sunday.  On  this  last 
Sunday  the  ordination  was  held  at  the  central  church,  thus 
bringing  the  realities  of  the  apostolic  communion  before  a  number 
who  had  very  probably  never  seen  an  ordination  in  their  lives, 
and  were  ignorant  for  the  most  part  of  what  an  ordination 
was.  The  first,  I  think,  of  these  missions  was  at  Wantage. 
I  well  remember  the  little  old  dilapidated  vicarage  at  the  west 
end  of  the  church  where  the  lime  trees  now  grow,  where 
evening  after  evening  the  Bishop  gathered  his  mission  clergy 
and  received  from  them  reports  of  their  day's  work.  Almost 
all  the  important  towns  of  the  Diocese  enjoyed  these  helps 
afterwards,  and  there  were  few  in  which  the  vicar  of  Wantage 
did  not  take  his  part. 

Another  most  important  organization,  which  has  lasted  down 
to  our  time,  was  the  formation  of  the  three  Diocesan  societies — 
Education,  Church-building,  Spiritual  Aid ;  those  who  know  some- 
thing of  the  great  educational  establishments  which  have  sprung 
up  in  Wantage  itself,  under  the  vicar's  fostering  care,  will  readily 


1853  EDUCATIONAL   EFFORTS  53 

believe  that  he  was  a  very  important  factor  in  the  working  of 
every  educational  effort  for  the  whole  Diocese.  At  the  quarterly 
meetings  in  Oxford,  at  the  gatherings  of  inspectors  at  Cuddesdon, 
in  the  formation  of  such  institutions  as  our  Training  College  at 
Culham,  and  in  the  management  of  that  College,  up  to  the  time 
of  his  leaving  the  Diocese,  he  was  ever  an  active  and  a  wise 
counsellor.  In  the  midst  of  all  his  hard  work  at  Wantage  he 
held  for  many  years  the  office  of  Bishop's  Inspector  for  the 
Deanery.  In  his  examinations  of  schools  he  was  impatient 
of  slovenliness  and  inaccuracy,  and  did  sometimes  provoke  a 
measure  of  resentment  on  the  part  of  those  who  were  themselves 
slovenly  or  inaccurate.  But  any  one  who  had  been  with  him 
in  his  own  schools  knew  how  little  he  tolerated  such  defects  among 
his  own  teachers  or  children.  It  has  been  well  said,  if  he  was 
severe  upon  others,  he  was  most  severe  of  all  upon  himself. 

It  will  be  remembered  that  in  looking  back  upon  his  early 
days  in  our  Diocese,  we  are  recalling  a  period  when  the  whole 
of  the  present  elementary  educational  system  was  in  its  infancy. 
"\Ve  had  to  watch  a  development  which,  little  by  little,  has  grown 
into  an  organisation  which  we  cannot  now  contemplate  without 
some  anxiety.  But  here  too  his  strong  good  sense  was  ready 
to  discriminate  between  the  good  and  the  evil  inherent  in  the 
state  system  of  education.  He,  and  I  myself,  lived  through  a 
period,  at  the  beginning  of  which  the  Department  came  to  us, 
asking  us  to  receive  almost  as  a  matter  of  favour  to  themselves, 
their  money  grants  and  their  inspection,  into  a  period  when  that 
inspection  has  become  compulsory  and  their  money  grants 
indispensable.  From  the  first  he  readily  accepted  the  good 
part  of  the  system,  and  did  what  lay  in  him  to  eliminate 
the  bad.  While  you  make  the  faith  of  the  Church  the  ground- 
work of  all  your  teaching,  not  only  of  what  is  called  the  religious 
element, — while  you  do  this,  he  would  say,  do  not  reject  any 
help  offered  tending  to  make  any  part  of  your  teaching  more 
perfect.  I  recollect  in  those  early  days  one  of  his  own  teachers 
doubting  whether  she  ought  to  have  anything  to  do  with 
Government  help,  or  Government  certificates  and  examinations, 
as  things  savouring  of  the  world  and  not  of  the  Church.  "  Use 
all  such  helps,"  said  the  vicar;  "reject  none  of  them.  If  the 
great  Cham  of  Tartary  were  to  open  an  examination  I  would 
go  in  for  it  if  it  would  in  any  way  help  on  my  school  in  any 


54  TROUBLED   TIMES  1847- 

branch  of  knowledge."  But  an  account  of  the  vicar's  work 
in  Wantage  itself  will  be  more  fully  given  by  another  hand. 

One  more  recollection.  In  the  year  1853  Bishop  Wilberforce 
proposed  to  me  the  building  of  a  Theological  College  at 
Cuddesdon.  The  first  person  of  whom  I  thought  as  a  counsellor 
in  the  matter  was  the  vicar  of  Wantage,  and  I  at  once  went 
thither  to  talk  over  the  matter  with  him.  It  was  by  no  means 
the  easy  matter  which  it  may  now  seem  to  carry  out  such  a 
scheme,  especially  within  eight  miles  of  Oxford.  There  were 
many  adversaries,  even  among  those  who  were  usually  loyal 
supporters  of  the  Bishop.  It  is  to  the  enthusiastic  and  steady 
support  of  Butler,  and  the  strong  faith  of  the  Bishop  himself 
and  some  few  staunch  friends  in  the  necessity  for  such  institutions, 
that  Cuddesdon  owed  its  beginnings.  And  those  who  can  call 
to  mind  those  days  under  myself,  Canon  Liddon,  and  the  Bishop 
of  Lincoln,  will  bear  witness  to  the  help  given  to  all  of  us  by 
the  same  generous  friend  in  times  of  trouble  and  rebuke  and 
blasphemy. 

It  would  be  easy,  associated  as  I  was  for  so  many  years  wilh 
Butler,  to  speak  of  other  parts  of  his  labours  ("amazing," 
as  Bishop  Wilberforce  called  them),  but  it  is  of  his  Diocesan 
work  that  I  have  been  asked  to  recall  some  memories.  There 
are  few  (if  any)  left  besides  myself  who  lived  through  the 
whole  period  of  his  life  in  the  Oxford  Diocese ;  of  Wantage,  the 
Sisterhood,  Worcester,  Lincoln,  others  will  doubtless  be  asked 
to  tell.  Some  memories  are,  after  all,  short-lived,  but  the  work 
itself  survives,  and  the  Diocese  is  still  reaping  the  harvest  which 
was  sown  by  the  vicar  of  Wantage  and  Bishop  Wilberforce. 

The  parish  of  which  William  Butler  had  now 
beQome  vicar  was  one  that  enjoyed  an  evil  reputation. 
"  Black  Wantage,"  as  it  was  called,  was  one  of  those 
half-urban,  half-rural  parishes  which  are  in  many 
respects  most  difficult  to  manage,  combining  neither 
the  advantages  of  town  or  country.  As  the  birthplace 
of  King  Alfred  and  Bishop  Butler  it  is  not  without 
historical  associations,  but  its  local  importance  con- 
sisted solely  in  being  the  corn  market  of  the  farmers 


1853  'BLACK   WANTAGE  55 

in  the  Vale  of  White  Horse.  There  were  no  resident 
gentry.  Rope-making  had  been  the  staple  industry, 
but  it  was  in  its  decline,  and  an  iron  foundry  was 
taking  its  place.  There  was  a  stately  cruciform 
church,  but  the  internal  arrangements  were  far  from 
being  decent  or  in  order,  although  the  general  effect 
was  imposing — "  a  church  that  would  awe  people 
into  devotion,"  as  was  said  by  one  of  the  great 
architects  of  the  day.  The  "  Latin  school"  and  a 
dame  school  occupied  the  churchyard,  the  latter 
attended  by  only  thirty-six  children  out  of  a  popula- 
tion of  3282.  The  vicarage,  an  ancient,  thatched, 
dilapidated  building,  stood  at  the  west  end  of  the 
church.  A  graphic  picture  of  Wantage  is  drawn  in 
the  Bristol  Times,  under  date  December  1847,  only 
a  few  months  after  the  new  vicar's  arrival,  which 
shows  how  he  had  already  begun  to  make  his  mark 
on  the  place. 

Wantage,  says  the  anonymous  writer,  though  it  has  two  inns, 
three  tailors  and  drapers,  one  policeman,  a  brace  of  watchmen, 
and  gas  lamps,  is  little  better  than  streets  of  farm-houses  con- 
fronting each  other,  with  flocks  and  herds  feeding  out  in  the 
rear.  .  .  .  While  strolling  about  on  Saturday  evening  I  found 
the  church  door  open,  and  entered.  There  were  some  men  at 
work  repairing  and  restoring  the  chancel.  .  .  .  The  new  clergy- 
man is  of  the  new  school — zealous,  anxious,  ever  in  his  work. 
He  is  evidently  one  of  the  race  of  clergymen  who  have  of  late 
years  sprung  up  to  replace  the  old  high-and-dry  denomination, 
and  compete  in  energy  and  zeal  with  the  evangelical  order — one 
of  a  class  who  emerged  from  their  Colleges  at  Oxford  and  Cam- 
bridge with  ideas  already  formed  of  pastoral  duty,  with  plans 
prepared  and  purposes  fixed  to  carry  them  out  with  a  kind  of 
Christian  chivalry.  If  some  of  them  have  lacked  discretion, 
none  of  them  have  been  deficient  in  devotedness,  and  many  have 


56  TROUBLED   TIMES  1847- 

a wakened  a  new  spirit  in  the  parishes  over  which  they  were 
placed,  filling  churches  that  before,  morning  and  evening, 
boasted  but  a  cheerless  few,  and  crowding  schools  that  before  were 
neglected  and  in  decay.  This,  I  learnt,  had  been  the  case  here. 
The  present  incumbent  came  after  a  rector  [sic]  with  whom  he 
stood  strongly  contrasted.  Wantage  has  been  one  of  those  places 
which  have  commonly  been  considered  an  appanage  to  some 
cathedral  stall,  or  a  fat  gift  for  some  favoured  pluralist,  who 
thought  it  no  sin,  as  Lord  Eldon  said,  "  to  shear  the  sheep  he  did 
not  feed."  The  Dean  of  St.  George's  Chapel,  at  Windsor,  was 
the  last  of  the  favoured  few  to  whom  Wantage  fell.  Twice  a  year 
he  arrived  with  a  carpet  bag  at  the  Bear  Inn,  received  his  tithes, 
and  returned,  without  leaving  either  his  carpet  bag  or  his  bless- 
ing behind  him.  After  such  a  pastor,  any  ordinary  conscientious 
clergyman  must  have  been  a  change  for  the  better;  and  the 
present  being  more  than  commonly  painstaking,  the  consequences 
of  increased  zeal  began  to  be  gradually  seen  in  increased  con- 
gregations ;  pew  doors,  the  latches  of  which  had  rusted  in  their 
staples,  were  gradually  opened;  seats,  from  which  the  moths  had 
not  been  disturbed  for  years,  began  to  fill;  the  dry-rot  that 
extended  from  pews  to  pulpit,  and  pulpit  to  pews,  was  stayed; 
and  on  the  Sunday  I  was  there  the  edifice  was  completely  filled 
with  smock-frocks  and  broadcloth.  I  liked  the  sermon,  because  I 
thought  it  an  original  one;  none  of  those  firstly,  secondly,  and 
thirdly  compilations  one  hears  too  often,  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten, 
and  which  all  appear  to  be  cut  out  of  the  same  pattern. 

The  vicar  began  at  once  to  cope  with  the  many 
difficulties  that  faced  him  in  his  new  parish.  One 
was  in  the  shape  of  the  small  hamlet  of  Charlton, 
about  a  mile  from  the  parish  church,  and  inhabited 
only  by  two  farmers  and  their  labourers,  with  the  few 
tradesmen  who  supplied  their  simple  wants.  The  little 
place  had  been  utterly  neglected — by  Dissent  as  well 
as  by  the  Church — but  the  awakening  of  spiritual  life 
in  Wantage  roused  the  nonconformists  to  action,  and 
it  seemed  probable  that  a  meeting  house  would  be 


1853  THE    FIRST   CONFIRMATION  57 

built  in  the  village  which  would  certainly  have  been 
thenceforward  lost  to  the  Church.  The  vicar,  how- 
ever, forestalled  them.  He  secured  a  suitable  site, 
applied  to  his  friend  Mr.  Butterfield  for  plans  for  a 
simple  brick  church  to  be  built  at  a  cost  of  £200, 
and  on  27th  April,  1848,  the  first  stone  was  laid 
by  his  mother.  The  church  was  dedicated  to  the 
Holy  Trinity,  and  was  opened  in  August  of  the  same 
year.  A  school  soon  followed.  The  plan  for  Charlton 
church,  together  with  other  parochial  matters,  is 
mentioned  in  a  letter  to  Bishop  Wilberforce. 

W.  J.  B.  TO  BISHOP  OF  OXFORD. 

WANTAGE  VICARAGE,  November  18,  1847. 

MY  LORD, — The  result  of  our  confirmation  has  been  most  satis- 
factory, so  far,  at  least,  as  one  can  judge,  both  as  regards  the 
confirmed  and  the  rest  of  the  congregation  present.  Several 
of  the  latter  said  that  it  was  to  them  like  being  confirmed  over 
again  themselves.  One  of  our  lawyers  told  me  that  he  had 
forgotten  all  about  his  own  confirmation,  but  this  he  never 
should  forget  as  long  as  he  lived.  About  70  of  the  confirmed 
have  become  communicants,  and  on  Oct.  31,  when  I  administered 
the  Sacrament,  180  were  present.  This  seems  to  give  an  opening 
for  a  better  state  of  things,  and  to  justify  a  weekly  Communion, 
which  I  for  one,  and  the  rest  of  our  cleric  party,  most  earnestly 
desire.  On  the  Sunday  which  I  mentioned  we  were  in 
church  till  near  half-past  two,  which  alone  seems  to  make 
a  change  of  some  kind  needful.  I  should  propose  a  weekly 
Communion  at  some  early  hour,  as  eight  o'clock,  except  on  the 
first  Sunday  in  each  month,  when  I  would  keep  to  the  former 
time,  viz.  after  the  morning  service.  Will  you  kindly  write  me 
a  word  in  reply  to  this  ? 

Butterfield  has  given  me  drawings  for  a  church,  or  rather  a 
piece  of  a  church,  with  room  for  about  90  people,  which  can 
be  built  for  £120,  and  which  will  have  an  ecclesiastical  character. 


58  TROUBLED   TIMES  1847- 

I  think  also  that  I  can  get  a  morsel  of  land  off  a  little  green 
on  which  to  build  it.  The  building  is  contrived  so  as  to  receive 
more  wall,  a  chancel,  tower,  and  good  windows  whenever  money 
comes  to  pay  for  them. 

I  shall  have  to  trouble  your  Lordship  again  with  the  result 
of  the  deliberations  of  the  School  Committee.  I  thought  we 
might  resolve  on  some  memorial  to  the  Government,  requesting 
assistance,  but  declining  it  under  the  present  arrangements 
on  account,  firstly,  of  the  indefiniteness  of  the  words  spiritual 
and  secular  as  used  of  a  school,  and,  secondly,  of  the  advantage 
of  an  arbiter  in  all  cases,  than  whom  none  can  be  so  fitting  for 
the  members  of  the  Church  as  their  Bishop,  and  expressing  also, 
if  it  can  be  done  without  offence,  the  danger  which  we  see  of 
the  management  passing  from  Church  hands  under  the  clauses 
of  the  Privy  Council. 

BISHOP  OF  OXFORD  TO  W.  J.  B. 

CUDDESDON  PALACE,  Nov.  20. 

MY  DEAR  SIR, — I  have  no  objection  to  your  proposal  of  a 
monthly  Communion  at  the  morning  service,  and  an  early 
Communion  on  the  other  Sundays;1  but  shall  thank  God  if  I 
hear  from  you  that  the  attendance  justifies  fully  the  attempt.  It 
is  my  own  practice  in  my  chapel  here. 

Your  temporary  church  plan  seems  a  very  good  one;  and 
the  deliberations  of  your  School  Committee  appear  to  me  to 
be  wise,  saving  only  that  I  think  you  should  first  ask  assistance 
simply ;  then,  if  the  objectionable  management  clauses  come, 
object.  Most  likely  they  will  yield ;  if  not,  present  a  memorial 
to  Government,  and  the  National  Society  on  the  final  refusal ; 
and  perhaps  a  petition  to  Parliament.  Lord  John  seems 
determined  to  break  by  simple  insults  his  truce  with  the  Church. 

1  In  the  "Parish  Journal"  for  May  7,  1848,  appears  this  entry  : 
"  Early  Communion  (13).  I  am  not  sure  whether  this  will  answer 
or  do  harm,  upsetting  the  regular  course  which  was  so  prosperous 
by  the  blessing  of  God.  I  trust  that  as  we  undertook  this  for  the 
benefit  of  some  of  our  parishioners  who  certainly  had  a  right  to  claim 
it,  that  He  will  rule  it  for  the  best.  It  is  a  very  serious  step,  more 
serious  than  perhaps  at  first  sight  appears.  It  seems  like  the  beginning 
of  a  great  work." 


1853  ST.    MICHAEL'S   ON   THE    DOWNS  59 

The  next  letters  show  how  readily  he  accepted  new 
responsibilities  rather  than  forego  a  principle  or  miss 
an  opportunity.  The  Rev.  T.  Archer  Houblon  had 
offered  £1000  to  build  a  chapel  for  the  workhouse, 
on  condition  of  its  being  consecrated.  After  much 
opposition  this  was  effected,  and  St.  Michael's  on  the 
Downs,  designed  by  Mr.  Butterfield,  became  a 
permanent  chapel  of  ease  to  Wantage. 

REV.  T.  A.  HOUBLON  TO  W.  J.  B. 

August  11  [1848]. 

I  trust  you  will  excuse  my  troubling  you  with  this  note  on  the 
subject  of  a  chapel  we  are  desirous  of  building  for  the  benefit  of 
the  poor  in  the  Wantage  workhouse,  and  which  is  very  much 
needed.  But  the  Bishop  will  not  consent  to  consecrate  without 
we  secure  the  permanency  of  the  performance  of  the  duty  in  it, 
and  this  we  can  only  do  by  making  it  a  chapel  of  ease  to  Wantage, 
though  there  is  little  doubt  but  that  the  Board  of  Guardians  will 
continue  their  present  salary  to  a  chaplain.  We  have  already 
obtained  the  consent  of  the  Dean  and  Chapter  to  this,  but  do  not 
like  to  take  any  steps  in  the  good  work  till  we  have  yours. 
Should  you  really  have  no  objection  to  our  placing  the  chapel  on 
this  footing,  would  you  let  me  know  at  your  earliest  convenience, 
as,  though  we  cannot  commence  the  building  this  year,  we  might 
[be]  collecting  and  preparing  the  materials,  and  fixing  on  the  plan, 
so  as  to  be  ready  to  commence  early  in  the  Spring. 

PEASEMORE,  NEWBURY,  BERKS. 

REV.  T.  A.  HOUBLON  TO  W.  J.  B. 

[Undated.] 

seemed  determined  on  building  a  room,  to  be  licensed  as  a 

chapel,  by  public  subscriptions,  wanting  me  to  head  them  with 
one  of  a  hundred  pounds.  I  am,  however,  resolved  to  abide  by 
the  original  agreement,  and  not  to  give  anything  unless  for  a 
consecrated  building. 


60  TROUBLED   TIMES  1847- 

He  was  then  and  always  in  close  touch  with  the 
Bishop  whom  he  consulted  at  every  important  point 
in  his  work.  The  Bishop  from  the  first  perceived 
that  in  William  Butler  he  had  a  man  of  no  common 
gifts  ;  and  he  strengthened  his  hands  by  every  means 
in  his  power.  Extracts  from  Bishop  Wilberforce's 
letters  will  illustrate  this. 

BISHOP  OF  OXFORD  TO  W.  J.  B. 

CUDDESDON  PALACE,  Feb.  10,  1848. 

It  has  occurred  to  me  that  it  might  aid  your  work  if  I  could 
come  and  ordain  your  deacon  at  Wantage  on  the  Ember  Sunday. 
I  cannot  absolutely  promise  this,  but  tell  me  whether  you  would 
like  it. 

61  EATON  PLACE,  March  10  [1848]. 

I  approve  entirely  of  your  proposed  missionary  scheme  except 
that  I  think  collecting  only  through  the  offertory  will  not 
answer.  I  think  the  habit  of  subscribing  good,  and  our  people 
will  not  be  ready  to  give  besides  their  offertory  offering  to  this  at 
the  offertory.  Either,  therefore,  your  common  alms  or  these  will 
suffer.  I  have  no  objection  to  your  receiving  any  extra  gifts 
as  you  propose;  but  I  do  not  think  that  you  will  effect  your 
purpose  if  you  limit  your  gifts  to  that. 

The  next  letter  alludes  to  the  arrangements  for  the 
ordination  to  be  held  in  Wantage  church,  and  to 
difficulties  connected  with  the  National  schools. 

BISHOP  OF  OXFORD  TO  W.  J.  B. 

5  WHITEHALL  PLACE,  March  4  [1848]. 

I  do  not  think  it  will  be  well  to  alter  the  service.  A  sermon  is 
ordered  and  the  litany ;  the  morning  prayer  thus  shortened  is  not 
long. 

I  think,  especially  after  last  night's  debate,  you  had  better  get 
your  committee  to  agree  to  a  short  letter  (as  he  has  said,  "propose 
your  arrangements,"  etc.)  to  this  effect.  Propose  any  clause,  A, 


1853  AN    ORDINATION   AT   WANTAGE  61 

B,  C,  D,  as  you  please,  changing  as  little  as  possible,  and  merely 
adding,  "and  that  the  Bishop  of  the  Diocese  be  the  visitor  of  the 
said  school." 

Of  course,  I  cannot  but  be  glad  to  see  any  friends  you  may  like 
to  invite ;  specially  such  an  one  as  Keble. 

I  will  settle  with  the  Archdeacon  about  a  sermon.  I  shall  be 
glad  if  well  to  preach  once  at  least  myself. 

Do  not  let  the  Union  Chapel  sleep.  C.  Buller  said  to  me,  "  I 
do  not  know  what  you  want  done,  but  /  will  do  it."  It  is  a  pity  to 
lose  such  an  humour.  .  .  . 

The  ordination  held  at  Wantage,  March  1848,  is 
thus  described  in  the  Life  of  Bishop  Wilberforce, 
vol.  ii.,  p.  8  (1881). 

You  ask  about  Wantage  ;  it  was  quite  a  pleasant  visit.  I  got 
there  about  4  P.M.  We  had  a  large  gathering  of  neighbours, 
clergy.  Tea  and  then  to  a  meeting  of  Church  of  England  mis- 
sions. Next  morning  service  at  ten.  It  is  a  noble  red  [sicl  old] 
cruciform  church,  and  the  chancel  all  nicely  restored  by  the 
present  vicar.  It  was  crowded  by  a  most  attentive  people.  I 
preached  to  them  on  "  The  sufficiency  of  God,"  and  I  never  saw  a 
congregation  more  hushed  into  earnest  and  devout  attention. 
All  through  the  ordination  there  was  the  deepest  attention.  I 
administered  the  Holy  Communion  to  160,  amongst  them  a  large 
number  of  young  people  whom  I  confirmed  here  last  year.  We 
went  home  to  dinner  at  three — a  party  of  clergy,  some  from 
Oxford,  some  from  the  neighbourhood.  At  four  we  went  to  after- 
noon service,  and  Archdeacon  Clerke  preached.  At  seven  we 
went  to  an  evening  litany  and  sermon,  and  I  preached  to  them. 
We  had  some  talk  in  the  evening,  an  eight  o'clock  prayers  next 
morning,  and  after  breakfast  I  came  away.  Butler  is  working  his 
parish  with  admirable  diligence  and,  at  present,  success.  He 
seems  to  me  more  to  combine  the  good  of  the  Evangelical  party 
with  the  devotion  of  the  High  Church  than  almost  any  young 
man  I  know.  His  only  danger  is  on  the  latter  side. 

Another  work  undertaken  at  this  time  was  the 
closing  of  the  churchyard,  which  was  overcrowded, 


62  TROUBLED   TIMES  1847- 

and  in  the  heart  of  the  town.  With  the  consent 
of  the  Dean  and  Chapter  of  Windsor  half  an  acre 
of  glebe  was  allotted  for  a  cemetery,  on  which  a 
chapel  was  built.  A  new  vicarage  also  had  become 
a  necessity.  The  old  dilapidated  structure  was 
taken  down,  traces  of  Elizabethan  building  being 
found  in  the  timbers  of  the  roof ;  and  a  new 
vicarage,  designed  by  Mr.  Gr.  E.  Street,  was  built 
on  the  north-west  side  of  the  church.  The  same 
year  saw  the  building  of  a  girls'  school,  of  which 
Mr.  Woodyer  was  the  architect.  This  was  opened 
on  the  29th  July,  1850. 

The  two  letters  which  follow  describe  the  opening 
of  St.  Augustine's  Missionary  College  at  Canterbury, 
a  great  event  in  the  Church  history  of  the  time. 
The  rest  of  the  correspondence  speaks  for  itself. 

W.  J.  B.  TO  HIS  WIFE. 

[July  4,  1848.] 

I  have  been  at  work  this  morning,  positive  external  work  ever 
since  half-past  six,  and  now  it  is  nine.  This,  therefore,  will  be 
two  pennyworth  for  you,  for  I  am  anxious,  if  possible,  to  give 
you  some  idea  of  the  doings  of  the  last  few  days.  In  the  first 
place  then,  on  Wednesday  night  at  eight  o'clock,  V.  and  I  left 
Faringdon  Road;  at  Slough  got  in  three  men,  apparently  Eton 
masters,  bound  on  the  same  errand  as  ourselves.  We  did  not 
however  socialise,  though  one  turned  out  next  day  to  be  Abraham 
or  Abram,  to  whom  I  was  introduced  by  friendly  Woodard. 
Then  I  went  to  Clifton  Place,  and  thence  after  some  consideration 
to  the  Adelaide  Hotel,  London  Bridge,  where  I  slept  for  exactly 
three  hours,  rising  at  four.  I  was  rejoiced,  by  the  way,  to  find 
that  I  can  wake  without  being  called.  I  slept  just  over  the  short 
passage  to  old  London  Bridge,  near  a  great  church  clock  where  a 
church  was  once,  and  a  church  still  standing  of  the  respectable 


1853  ON   THE   WAY  TO   CANTERBURY  63 

C.  Wren  date.  Under  the  same  roof  were  Vincent,  Mozley,  Wood- 
ard,  and  lots  more.  I  was  off  first  in  the  morning  with  W.,  and 
arriving  at  station  just  at  five,  found  it  thronged  with  acquaint- 
ances and  friends,  new  and  old,  some  cassockt1  and  capt  as 
Chamberlain  and  Patterson,  some  great-coated  and  plaided  as 
myself  and  Marriott,  all  with  little  bags  in  their  hands  containing 
their  '  robes.'  Hope  looking  about  through  his  spectacles,  Lady 
Mildred  and  a  select  few  females  all  in  high  spirits,  Bishops  like 
blackbirds,  Archbishop  with  suite  of  rosy  low  church  chaplains 
and  purple  flunkies,  S.  Oxon  in  full  and  fat  fig,  H.  Wilber- 
force,  Trench  (by  the  way  it  is  very  curious  how  the  Bishop  and 
he  have  communicated  to  each  other  expression  of  voice,  look, 
and  language),  with  crowds  more  of  all  kinds.  I  was  in  a  car- 
riage with  Henry  Wilberforce,  Patterson,  C.  Marriott,  and 
Crawley  of  Littlemore,  and  the  conversation  was  very  agreeable. 
I  taxed  H.  W.  with  his  familiarity  with  K.  Shuttleworth.  He 
looked  a  little,  I  thought,  ashamed,  but  got  off  somehow.  There 
was  something  on  the  line,  the  removal  of  which  caused  delay, 
and  we  did  not  go  over  fast.  Arrived  in  Canterbury,  more  faces 
presented  themselves,  for  we  had  stopped  at  Ashford  and  Tun- 
bridge  to  take  men  in.  Masters,  Balston,  Tritton,  J.  M.  Heath, 
Flint,  etc.  It  was  raining  hard,  and  we  had  a  somewhat  muddy 
run  to  the  College,  a  mile  and  a  half  distant.  I  was  very  near 
missing  the  consecration,  for  fancying  that  all  the  men  in  the 
train  were  invited  thereto,  I  stayed  chatting  with  them  at  the 
station.  Luckily  I  lighted  on  some  gent  in  a  fly,  who  conveyed 
me  part  of  the  way ;  and  at  last  I  found  myself  in  the  College 
Hall,  this,  too,  filled  with  men — Webb,  Scott,  Vaughan,  Blakesley, 
Mr.  Keble,  Geo.  Williams,  Thompson  of  Trinity,  Lord  Powis, 
Mr.  Puller,  Monro,  D.  Coleridge,  Pollen,  etc.  I  was  too  much 
excited  to  see  much.  Things  just  lay  on  the  retina  of  my  eyes 
without  making  an  impression,  just  as  words  will  fall  on  the  ear 
sometimes  and  you  cannot  bring  the  mind  to  realise  them.  I 
heard  people  talking,  how  this  was  the  old  oak  roof  preserved, 
and  I  could  feel  the  general  effect,  but  this  was  all.  After  a  long 
delay  we  were  summoned  by  name,  Mr.  Keble  to  my  intense  joy 
first  of  all,  before  Deans,  Archdeacons,  Schoolmasters,  'Apostles,' 

1  This  form  of  the  past  tense  was  much  used  by  Cambridge  men  of 
that  date,  under  the  influence  of  the  Hares. 


64  TROUBLED   TIMES  1847- 

Poets,  Lords  temporal,  Ecclesiologists,  or  College  tutors  (there 
were  no  Heads  of  houses !).  Then  all  in  turn.  With  eleven  others  I 
was  placed  in  the  little  Sacrarium  facing  the  Archbishop's  Throne. 
All  the  stalls  were  filled  by  men  and  the  Antechapel  by  Lady 
Mildred  Hope  and  her  party.  Then  came  up  Archbishop  and  six 
or  seven  Bishops,  Bishop  of  Brechin  among  them,  the  Archbishop 
and  Gloucester  alone  remaining  in  the  Sacrarium ;  and  consecra- 
tion service  began  by  the  procession  up  and  down  the  chapel  of 
the  Archbishop,  Bishops,  and  officiating  clergymen.  The  service 
was  very  poor,  and  in  some  respects  jarring.  .  .  .  However,  I 
don't  want  to  talk  of  this,  but  merely  to  give  you  my  entire  feel- 
ings. Then  it  was  very  slow  to  have  no  chanting,  no  organ,  and 
to  see  all  the  black  gowns  on  so  joyous  an  occasion.  One  or  two 
other  things  put  me  out  a  little,  as  you  know  tightly  strung 
feelings  are  very  apt  to  be  easily  jarred.  The  collection  was 
noble,  £3000 ;  £2000  sent  by  one  unknown  contributor,  £500  by 
another.  Service  concluded  at  a  quarter  to  eleven,  and  then  I 

went  to and  got  a  very  minute  portion  of  food,  though  in 

a  fainting  state.  .  .  .  After  a  time  H.  W.  and  Mary  "VV.  came  in, 
and  Mrs.  Manning  and  Miss  Byles  afterwards,  so  that  we  went 
forth  a  large  party  to  the  Cathedral.  By  this  time  the  close  was 
teeming  with  people,  and  when  the  doors  of  the  Cathedral  opened 
a  very  disgraceful  rush  and  scramble  took  place,  some  literally 
racing  up  the  nave  to  get  seats  in  the  choir.  There  was  a  great 
squeeze  at  the  entrance  and  up  the  steps  of  the  choir.  (Do  you 
understand  that  the  choir  screen  of  Canterbury  is  raised  on  a 
noble  flight  of  steps  1 )  Those  present  in  the  morning  had 
reserved  seats,  so  that  I  was  fairly  placed  in  the  stalls.  The  choir 
presented  a  most  striking  appearance,  from  numbers  and  variety 
of  costume ;  but  there  was  no  separation  of  clergy  and  laity,  all 
were  in  a  dense  mass  mingled  together.  Women  in  the  Stalls, 
laity  in  the  Sacrarium,  etc.  There  was  a  fine  sound  of  many 
voices  in  the  Psalms,  etc.;  and  the  anthem  was  a  favourite  of 
mine,  Handel's  "  How  beautiful  are  the  feet,"  etc.  .  .  . 

WANTAGE  VICARAGE,  July  5,  1848, 

I  think  I  left  off  at  the  Cathedral  after  the  rush.  It  was  a  very 
fine  sight,  only  one  wished  to  have  the  Archbishop  on  the  steps 
outside  the  choir,  haranguing  the  multitude  in  the  nave.  The 
sermon  was  slow  but  harmless ;  I  could  catch  nothing  of  it  but  a 


1853  CANTERBURY  65 

few  texts  here  and  there,  and  certain  technicalities  of  expression. 
Still,  he  uttered  the  word  Church  several  times,  and  the  text  told 
its  own  tale — "Make  known  by  the  Church."  The  singing 
was  good  and  hearty  from  the  mass  of  voice.  But  the  whole 
tone  of  the  Cathedral  is  very  unsatisfactory,  and  confirms  my 
Chartist  views.  I  slept  out  most  of  the  sermon,  and  I  believe 
many  others  were  nodding  also.  A  collection,  not  in  the 
offertory,  but  by  gents  at  the  door,  ludicrous  enough  it  seemed 
to  see  men  with  plates  at  the  Cathedral  door.  E.  Hawkins 
was  one,  and  I  think  Fagan,  and  others.  .  .  .  Then  came 
luncheon  in  the  Cloisters  and  Museum  of  the  College,  pre- 
ceded by  wandering  about  the  rooms.  Everyone  was  there. 
Bishop  of  Oxford,  with  Trench  on  one  and  Allies  on  the  other 
arm,  Henry  and  Mary  Wilberforce,  Cyril  Page,  Pollen  and  sister, 
Patterson  and  ditto,  Puller,  with  whom  I  had  some  talk,  old 
Eandolph,  the  Dean  of  Hereford,  with  whom  I  fraternized. 
Everyone  save  Hope  and  Butterfield,  neither  of  whom  I  saw. 
The  clergy  were  in  various  costumes,  some  with  cassocks,  some 
without.  Women  folk  plainly  drest  as  became  them.  I  made  an 
attempt,  but  failed,  to  catch  the  four  o'clock  train,  but  I  didn't 
care,  for  I  thereby  caught  afternoon  service  in  Cathedral.  .  .  . 
No  preachment  in  the  afternoon,  which  was  slow.  One  longed 
for  a  few  good  earnest  words  spoken  from  the  heart.  But  they 
didn't  come.  After  service,  V.,  B.,  sisters  and  I  went  to  see  St. 
Martin's,  a  most  interesting  relic  as  you  know,  lately  restored  in 
good  style,  admirably  placed  on  a  rising  knoll.  By  this  time  we 
had  to  run  for  it  to  catch  the  half-past-seven  train,  which  how- 
ever we  did  catch,  and  I  found  myself  in  a  coupe  with 
Humphry,  Lord  Nelson,  and  J.  Mozley.  This  gave  a  pleasant 
journey  to  London  where  we  arrived  at  eleven.  Even  then  I 
saw  one  more,  even  Mrs.  Keble  in  her  cab,  and  had  a  kind 
greeting  from  her.  .  .  .  The  streets  of  Canterbury  won't  forget 
the  gathering  in  a  hurry.  They  say  that  1000  clergy  were 
present.  I  should  have  said  that  about  500  was  nearer  the 
truth,  but  it  is  difficult  to  be  accurate.  I  heard  one  rough- 
looking  fellow  say  to  another,  "  I  wonder  what  all  these  parsons 
costs  to  keep."  This  was  an  obvious  though  not  very  kind 
remark.  But  it  made  me  ponder  a  little,  not  exactly  how  much 
they  cost  to  keep,  but  a  few  other  points  connected  with  it. 


66  TROUBLED   TIMES  1847- 

W.  J.  B.  TO  VEN.  ARCHDEACON  MANNING. 

WANTAGE  VICARAGE,  August  29,  1848. 

MY  DEAR  ARCHDEACON, — I  too  have  been  purposing  to  write 
to  you  to  express,  or  try  to  express,  the  deep  thankfulness  with 
which  I  look  back  on  your  short  abode  with  us,  and  the  support 
which  your  words  gave  to  opinions  (or  I  should  rather  say  a 
belief),  which  have  long  been  growing  up  in  my  mind. 

It  has  seemed  to  me  that  our  Church,  having  weathered  the 
difficulties  attending  the  statement  of  the  true  Faith  in  regard  to 
the  two  great  means  of  Grace,  has  been  enjoying  a  kind  of 
ovation,  and  if  I  may  say  so,  running  riot  in  the  glorious  views 
which  open  themselves  as  consequences.  So  then  that  we  have 
been  neglecting,  as  a  bod}%  the  sterner  and  more  practical,  and 
that  we  (of  course  especially  the  clergy)  are  greatly  needing  a 
higher  standard  of  religious  aiming,  deeper  spirituality,  stricter 
ocnc?7cris,  a  life  more  regulated  by  definite  calculation  of  the  worth 
of  acts.  Really,  often  I  think  that  in  this  the  "  High  Church  " 
school  is  left  behind  by  the  "Evangelical."  The  evangelical 
party  seem  more  saturated  with  spirituality.  In  order  then  to 
give  this  higher  tone  we  are  mercifully  led  on  to  that  which  will 
put  the  Church  as  much  before  itself  in  practice  as  the  true 
doctrine  of  the  sacraments,  etc.,  has  advanced  her  in  the  faith, 
•viz.  confession  and  absolution.  We  seem  to  be  gradually  drifting 
on  to  this,  and  so,  as  the  channel  of  perfection,  Satan  has  guarded 
this  with  especial  care. 

I  feel  so  very  deeply  the  peculiar  nature  of  the  difficulties 
which  beset  this  subject,  and  yet  on  the  other  hand,  the  absolute 
necessity  of  bringing  it  forward,  that  I  am  more  perplexed  than 
I  can  say;  I  am  terrified  when  urging  my  parishioners  to  more 
frequent  communion  and  the  like  without  adding  this  as  a  pre- 
liminary, and  yet  I  feel  very  fearful  lest  by  clumsiness,  lack  of 
otKovofua,  misuse  of  words,  or  what  in  effect  is  the  same,  the 
use  of  words,  in  themselves  right  enough,  but  misunderstood  and 
so  conveying  a  false  impression,  I  should  be  the  means  of 
scandal.  Of  one  thing  I  seem  certain,  that  it  cannot  properly  be 
urged  but  by  a  confessing  clergy,  and  here  I  think  we  shall  find 
no  small  difficulty.  The  pain  and  trouble  will  make  men  recoil 
from  this  in  practice,  who  will  gladly  admit  the  theory  as  well 
as  other  Church  views.  .  .  . 


1853  CORRESPONDENCE,  1848  67 

How  one  longs  that  the  halo  of  romance,  so  to  say,  were  removed 
from  confession,  and  it  became  a  regular  common-place  part  of 
Christian  life.  This  would  save  what  now  causes  so  much  need- 
less pain,  that,  I  mean,  connected  with  self-consciousness. 

This  difficulty  has  occurred  to  me,  and  I  should  be  glad  to  have 
it  solved.  Is  it  not  somewhat  unnatural,  if  not  wrong,  that  any 
one,  even  a  confessor,  should  know  more  of  a  married  woman 
than  her  husband  knows,  and  might  not  the  neglect  of  this  fact 
have  been  in  some  measure  the  cause  of  the  laxity  which  has 
obtained  abroad  in  the  matter  of  marriage  1 

I  assure  you,  with  many  thanks  for  your  great  kindness  in 
thinking  about  me,  that  I  do  take  care  of  my  health,  and  (at  least 
since  Lent)  I  have  generally  made  out  about  six  hours  of  sleep. 
And  I  have  lately  been  enjoying  a  most  reposeful  ten  days  of 
reading  and  writing  at  Glympton,1  than  which  never  was  schemed 
a  more  fitting  hospital  for  decayed  parsons.  .  .  .  Charlton 
Chapel  is  working  well. 

REV.  J.  KEBLE  TO  W.  J.  B. 

H.  V.,  August  3,  1848. 

At  last  Harrison  has  sent  the  sketch  of  the  font  which  he 
proposes,  and  I  forward  it  for  your  consideration.  To  our 
idiotical  eyes  it  looks  as  if  it  would  do  very  well.  Will  you 
kindly  return  it  to  him  with  any  remarks  upon  itself  or  the 
manner  in  which  you  would  wish  it  wrought,  by  whom,  in  what 
material,  etc.,  as  soon  as  convenient  to  11  Chancery  Lane  ? 
[Now,  before  I  say  the  next  thing,  I  put  you  upon  your 
honour — if  the  subject  were  a  fit  one,  as  perhaps  it  is,  I  would 
put  you  upon  something  more  sacred — not  to  go  one  farthing 
beyond  what  you  had  before  intended  to  apply  to  this  purpose ; 
and  I  say  the  same  to  kind  Mr.  Freeman,  to  whom  I  ought 
rather  to  give  something  costly  for  the  use  he  has  been  of 

to .     Now    if  you    promise    me    this  in   your  heart,    you 

may  read  on ;  if  not,  it  will  be  like  breaking  one's  seal.]  The 
cost  will  be  about  thirty  pounds.  I  really  grudge  taking  it 
from  Wantage,  especially  as  I  see  no  immediate  prospect  of 
being  able  to  make  an  offering  there.  But  you  were  so  kindly 

1  His  father-in-law's  country  house. 


68  TROUBLED   TIMES  1847- 

earnest  I  could  not  but  thankfully  say  yes,  only  it  is  very 
possible  that  things  may  have  arisen  since  which  might  draw 
your  gift,  if  it  were  free,  elsewhere ;  and,  in  one  word,  I  trust 
you  will  consider  it  free. 

We  hope  to  be  ready  by  St.  Matthew's  Day,  but  are  as 
yet  scarcely  able  to  propose  it  to  the  Bishop.  Pray  come  if 
you  can,  and  bring  Mrs.  Butler.  I  daresay  you  will  have  to 
put  up  with  some  strange  extempore  accommodations,  but 
that  you  will  not  mind.  We  mean  to  invite  as  few  as  we  can 
from  a  distance,  that  our  own  people  may  have  room.  But  it 
will  be  a  loss  not  to  have  our  especial  benefactors,  and  there 
will  be  plenty  of  room  for  them. 

I  feel  as  I  write  that  it  ought  to  make  one  very  thoughtful 
having  to  do  with  such  a  work.  One  may  hope  that  one's 
friends  are  thoughtful  for  one.  .  .  . 

Judge  Coleridge  tells  me  of  a  long  talk  which  he  has  had 
with  your  Bishop  about  this  bill  for  people  marrying  two 
sisters.  It  seems  to  me  very  shocking,  and  that  his  taking 
part  in  it,  which  he  seems  inclined  to  do,  will  be  especially 
sad  and  scandalous.  I  mention  it  in  case  you  should  be  able 
and  willing  to  influence  him  in  any  way.  .  .  . 

W.  J.  B.  TO  REV.  J.  KEBLE. 

GLYMPTON  PARK,  WOODSTOCK, 
August  21,  1848. 

I  ought  long  ago  to  have  answered  your  very  kind  letter, 
especially  as  I  do  trust  to  be  able  to  be  with  you  on  St. 
Matthew's  Day.  We  admired  Mr.  Harrison's  design  very  much, 
and  returned  [it]  to  him  immediately,  that  it  might  be  taken  in 
hand.  It  is  not  worth  while  now  to  explain  to  you  certain 
points  connected  with  the  donorship  of  it,  but  perhaps  I  ought 
to  say  this  (and  I  hope  you  will  not  object  to  the  change), 
that  having  sounded  -  — ,  and  finding  that  he  did  not,  as  I 
expected,  spring  to  meet  me,  from  poverty  not  will  consenting, 
I  made  another  arrangement,  viz.  to  offer  it  from  the  Wantage 
clerics,  male  and  female.  ...  I  thought  of  a  few  words 
underneath  the  plinth  or  shaft  (i.e.  on  the  side  of  the  font 
which  touches  the  ground),  and  consequently  entirely  hidden, 


i853  CORRESPONDENCE,    1848  69 

to  express  that  the  font  was  a  gift  from  the  Priests,  Deacon, 
and  Eeligious  of  Wantage  to  the  Hursley  church,  just  for  the 
purpose  of  fixing  the  feeling.  But  I  do  not  care  at  all  about 
this,  if,  as  is  very  probable,  you  may  think  it  objectionable.  I 
thought  of  this — 

* 
Ecclesiffi  Parochial! 

S 

In  agro  Hursliensi? 

Hunc  Fontem,  Lavacrum  Regeneratiouia 

In  honorem  D.N.  J.C. 

Gratis  animis 

D.  D.  D. 

Presbyteri,  Diaconus,  Lectores?   Sorores? 

Ecclesise  S.S.  Petri  et  Pauli 

Indigna  familia? 

Apud  Wantagiam. 

* 

I  think  that  I  see  you  smiling  at  this.  Pray  correct  it,  if  you 
like  the  idea.  It  is  not  easy  to  express  in  ecclesiastical  Latin 
some  of  our  present  relations.  Or  perhaps  I  ought  to  say  I 
am  too  ignorant  of  terms  to  find  it  easy.  We  had  the  Arch- 
deacon M[anning]  with  us  for  a  few  days  in  the  week  before 
last.  He  was  celebrant  for  us  at  the  opening  of  a  little  £200 
chapel  which  we  have  just  built  in  an  outlying  hamlet. 

I  believe,  though  I  dread  to  say  it,  that  all  things  at  Wantage 
by  God's  blessing  are  prospering,  and  gradually  moving  forward 
in  the  right  direction.  But  how  keenly  one  begins  to  feel  the 
absolute  necessity,  if  we  are  to  get  on  farther,  of  a  regular  and 
so  to  speak  common-place  system  of  confession.  Between  that 
and  anything  else,  e.g.  parochial  visiting,  friendly  relations 
between  clergy  and  farmers,  and  all  the  rest,  which  some  Bishops 
and  all  'safe  and  practical'  people  incessantly  urge  as  the  per- 
fection of  parish  management,  it  seems  to  me  that  there  is  all  the 
difference  between  playing  at  things  and  real  earnest  work;  that 
the  one  is  a  mere  evasion,  the  other  the  true  Church  system, 
whose  pain,  like  children  dreading  to  have  their  teeth  pulled  out, 
men  urge  every  excuse  to  escape.  I  feel  this  more  strongly 
every  day,  while  communicants  are  increasing  with  us,  as 
everywhere  else,  to  an  almost  startling  extent.  ...  I  have 
got  the  evidence  before  the  Marriage  Committee,  and  I  will 


70  TROUBLED   TIMES  1847- 

endeavour  to  study  it  sufficiently  to  write  to  our  Bishop,  who  has 
invited  all  his  clergy  to  communicate  with  him  on  the  subject. 
I  declined  before,  for  I  had  no  means  of  supporting  by  argument 
my  natural  feelings,  and  I  saw  a  danger  in  expressing  them 
without  this. 

REV.  J.  KEBLE  TO  W.  J.  B. 

HPRSLEY  VICARAGE,  Oct.  6,  1848. 

Our  consecration  is  fixed  for  the  24th  instead  of  the  18th  on 
account  of  the  Chancellor's  visitation.  I  trust  this  will  make  no 
difference  to  your  coming.  The  Bishop  has  kindly  permitted  us 
to  have  the  Holy  Communion.  The  clergy  to  bring  their  gowns ; 
service  at  eleven  o'clock. 

I  have  as  yet,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  but  very  faint  notions  of  the 
'  preaching '  for  which  I  proposed  to  retain  you  and  others  in  that 
week.  My  difficulties  are  chiefly  these  two :  the  dark  nights 
through  which  the  people  will  have  to  tramp  to  the  church,  and 
my  being  myself  engaged  on  somewhat  of  a  similar  task  in  Leeds 
on  the  Eve  of  All  Saints  and  on  All  Saints  Day.  If  we  do 
manage  it,  I  thought  the  subjects  ought  to  be  such  as  would  come 
under  this  head,  viz. : — 'The  Church  and  her  Services  as  a 
Preparation  for  Eternity.'  Could  you  without  much  trouble  dis- 
tribute this  into  eight  or  nine  heads,  for  the  day  and  following 
days  till  the  31st  inclusive,  the  31st  being  All  Saints  Eve?  (I  say 
eight  or  nine  because  of  the  Sunday.)  And  you  might  take  any 
one  you  pleased. 

I  am  quite  delighted  at  the  thought  of  your  both  coming. 


W.  J.  B.  TO  REV.  J.  KEBLE. 

WANTAGE  VICARAGE,  Oct.  17  [1848]. 

I  am  very  stupid,  and  though  I  have  been  considering  your 
thesis  for  some  time,  I  cannot  satisfy  myself  with  any  result  of 
my  thoughts.  Would  you  take  such  a  line  as  that  of  making  the 
(1)  penitential,  (2)  joyous,  (3)  peaceful,  (4)  praiseful,  (5)  constant, 
(6)  satisfying,  character  of  the  Church  services,  and  then  connect 
each  with  the  church  fabric? 


1853  CHI   VA   PIANO,   VA   SANO  71 

I  would  try  either  (1)  or  (5).  But  I  hope  that  you  would  not 
think  of  such  a  weak  arrangement,  and  that  if  you  want  me  at 
all,  you  will  order  me  to  what  you  like. 

We  are  in  the  midst  of  a  huge  town  fair,  fortunately  only 
annual,  but  it  troubles  us  a  good  deal,  tempting  communicants 
and  upsetting  our  schools. 

Up  to  this  point  the  course  of  the  vicar's  life  at 
Wantage  had  been  fairly  smooth.  It  would  be  im- 
possible indeed  that  such  radical  changes  as  he 
sought  to  make  in  the  church  and  parish  should 
not  provoke  some  opposition,  but,  all  things  con- 
sidered, his  parishioners  accepted  them  with  much 
greater  quietness  than  could  have  been  expected. 
This  was  owing  to  various  causes.  In  the  first 
place,  he  found  a  genuine  Church-feeling  and  tradition 
in  the  people,  although  it  had  been  buried  for  many 
years  in  neglect  and  apathy.  He  used  in  after-years 
to  cite,  as  an  instance,  the  fact  that  on  .Good  Friday 
there  had  always  been  a  celebration  of  Holy  Com- 
munion largely  attended.  He  noticed  also  that  the 
elder  generation  of  the  women  used  to  curtsey  at  the 
Gloria.  The  daily  services  he  established  were  at  once 
attended  by  some  old  men  and  women  with  regu- 
larity. In  fact,  although  the  Church  had  been  idle, 
Dissent  had  not  stepped  into  the  breach,  and  there  was 
a  general  feeling  that  the  parson  should  be  supported. 
Then,  although  he  came  full  of  energy  and  enthus- 
iasm to  the  work,  he  did  nothing  rashly  or  violently. 
He  did  not  suddenly  change  the  hours  of  service  or 
force  startling  novelties  of  ritual  on  a  congregation 
incapable  of  understanding  them.  What  he  found 
good  he  kept,  and  was  content  to  wait  until  he  had 


72  TROUBLED    TIMES  1847- 

trained  the  young  generation  up  to  a  higher  standard. 
The  services  he  introduced  were  supplementary  to  those 
already  in  use,  and  he  was  careful  to  draw  the  dis- 
tinction between  what  was  essential  and  what  was  not. 
Thus,  as  late  as  June  1865,  he  wrote  in  the 
"  Parish  Journal." 

A  long  conversation  with makes  me  very   doubtful  as 

to  the  propriety  of  continuing  the  choral  Sunday  morning  ser- 
vice after  Sunday  next.  He  is  a  good,  sensible  man,  and  disposed 
to  Church  feeling.  He  assures  me  that  most  of  his  class  in  the 
congregation  [i.e.  the  class  just  above  the  tradespeople]  are  dis- 
quieted by  it.  They  do  not  object  to  choral  service  once  in  a 
month,  but  it  is  the  constancy  of  it  which  worries  them.  I  do 
not  think  that  it  would  be  right  to  force  an  arrangement  through 
which,  however  in  itself  more  perfect  and  desirable,  is  yet  against 
the  feeling  of  such  people  as  these.  All  that  can  be  done  is  to 
work  steadily  forward  towards  educating  their  minds,  and  giving 
them  a  love  and  taste  for  better  things.  When  this  is  done,  the 
other  will  follow.  Until  it  is  done,  any  such  advance  in  ritual 
will  defeat  its  own  object. 

This  wise  moderation  and  caution  bore  fruit  in 
the  general  acceptance  of  his  system.  Meanwhile 
he  was  working  hard  to  influence  the  younger 
members  of  his  flock. 

He  did  not  confine  himself  to  collective  teaching. 
Over  and  over  again  notices  occur  in  his  "  Parish 
Journal "  of  personal  interviews  with  individuals, 
both  old  and  young,  whom  he  sought  to  bring  to 
a  better  way.  His  attention  was  not  devoted  to 
purely  ecclesiastical  objects,  but  he  threw  himself 
into  business  relating  to  the  town.  In  his  first 
year  he  began  to  make  proposals  for  a  better  drain- 
age system,  for  sanitary  matters  had  been  sadly 


1853  BREAKERS   AHEAD  73 

neglected  at  Wantage,  with  the  result  that  out- 
breaks of  typhoid  fever  were  frequent.  He  also  took 
an  active  part  in  getting  the  town  lighted  by  gas. 
He  was  most  regular  in  attending  all  meetings  of 
the  town  governors  and  commissioners.  But  a 
time  was  at  hand  when  he  would  meet  with  violent 
opposition  and  bitter  hostility ;  and  this  was  due 
to  causes  for  which  he  was  not  responsible. 

The  history  of  the  Wantage  Sisterhood  is  told  in 
another  place  in  this  book,  so  it  will  be  sufficient  to 
say  that  at  this  time,  1850,  although  it  was  already  a 
most  valuable  auxiliary  to  the  vicar  in  the  parish, 
he  was  not  its  spiritual  director.  His  friend,  Arch- 
deacon Manning,  whom  he  thoroughly  trusted,  rilled 
that  post. 

The  year  was  an  eventful  one  for  the  Church  of 
England.  The  Gorham  judgement  had  shaken  the 
faith  of  many  of  her  children,  and  numerous  seces- 
sions to  Rome  followed.  The  Mother  Superior,  Miss 
Lockhart,  was  one  of  those  who  forsook  the  Church 
at  this  crisis,  accompanied  by  one  of  the  Sisters ; 
and  their  secession  was  followed  by  that  of  Arch- 
deacon Manning. 

This  was  a  heavy  blow  to  the  vicar.  Apart  from 
the  probability  of  his  being  held  responsible  for 
the  secession  of  the  Sisters,  which  the  outer  world 
would  consider  as  the  practical  outcome  of  his 
teaching,  the  defection  of  Archdeacon  Manning,  an 
older  man  than  himself,  and  one  to  whom  he  had 
turned  for  counsel  and  advice,  would  be  a  grievous 
shock  to  his  confidence.  The  Gorham  judgement 


74  TROUBLED   TIMES  1847- 

itself  gave  him  intense  pain.  If  ever  lie  wavered 
and  felt  doubtful  as  to  his  position  as  a  member 
of  the  Church  of  England,  it  was  then.  Not  that 
he  for  one  moment  contemplated  joining  the  Church 
of  Eome;  but  he  was  shaken  in  his  faith  in  his 
own  Communion. 

His  correspondence  with  Mr.  Keble  reveals  his 
own  perplexities  and  fears,  which,  however,  never 
caused  him  to  slacken  for  an  hour  in  his  strenuous 
efforts  to  carry  on  the  work  for  souls  to  which  he 
had  been  called. 

REV.  J.  KEBLE  TO  W.  J.  B. 

H.  V.,  3  Th.  in  Lent,  1850. 

There  is  thought  of  trying  a  sort  of  Brotherhood  in  Plymouth 
or  Devonport,  and  some  persons  have  agreed  to  act  for  a  time 
in  that  way,  under  parochial  authority  of  course;  but  two 
material  things  are  as  yet  unprovided — a  Rule  and  a  Superior. 
Can  you  help  us  at  all  towards  either?  I  mean,  could  you 
send  us  any  written  rules  which  you  have  tried  yourself,  or 
know  to  have  been  tried,  in  cases  at  all  similar;  and  do  you 
know  of  any  one  who  either  now  or  after  Easter  could  and 
would  go  down  to  take  the  lead  in  the  matter — and  whom  you 
would  recommend  ?  A  person  who  is  in  many  respects  very 
unfit  has  promised  to  go  for  a  month  after  Easter  if  no  better 
can  be  found,  but  he  is  most  desirous  to  find  a  good 
substitute. 

I  trust  you  have  had  much  help  and  comfort  in  what  I  see 
has  been  going  on  in  your  parts.1 

W.  J.  B.  TO  REV.  J.  KEBLE. 

WANTAGE  VICARAGE,  March  2  [1850]. 

I  rejoice  much  in  the  hearing  of  that  Devonport  move. 
From  my  own  experience  I  fear  that  I  can  say  little  likely 

1  I.e.  one  of  Bishop  Wilberforce's  Diocesan  Missions. 


1853  ANXIETY  75 

to  help.  But  if  I  might  suggest  one  danger — I  should  fear,  and 
think  it  most  needful  to  guard  against,  a  certain  scornfulness 
and  superciliousness  which  I  seem  to  trace  not  unfrequently 
among  those  engaged  in  high  and  holy  works.  Might  not 
some  rule  be  drawn  out  in  regard  to  dealing  and  conversing 
with  those  who  are  without?  Also  I  would,  though  you  pro- 
bably know  them  much  better  than  I,  mention  the  Hours, 
translated  by  Albany  Christie.  I  have  found,  as  I  think, 
great  advantage  for  myself  in  using  the  Latin  Hours,  and  I 
cannot  imagine  anything  which  can  take  their  place. 

The  sisters  at  St.  Mary's  Home  use  the  Hours  in  English. 
Our  Bishop,  I  believe,  saw  them  and  made  no  objection.  Indeed, 
why  should  he?  There  is,  as  you  know,  very  little  to  alter, 
for  the  simple  reason  that  they  are  catholic.  The  only  other 
thing  that  strikes  me  is  that  a  sort  of  "Fundamentum"  should 
be  laid,  after  the  manner  of  St.  Ignatius,  so  that  the. brethren 
might  fairly  grasp  the  "quid  nocet"  and  "quid  prodest"  argu- 
ment. This  would  reconcile  them  to  inferior  places,  etc. 

I  should  like  very  much  to  have  a  word  from  you  in  reply 
to  this  query.  Will  not  the  institution  of  Gorham  (convicted 
of  heresy),  in  accordance  with  a  decree  of  the  Privy  Council, 
vitiate  the  whole  position  of  the  English  Church  ?  Is  it  enough 
to  say  this  is  an  unjust  law  and  must  be  altered?  And  might 
not  the  men  of  old,  who  were  bidden  sacrifice  to  idols,  have 
said  just  the  same  and  so  sacrificed?  Ought  not  the  Church 
to  be  in  a  position  to  refuse,  and,  if  she  be  not,  is  she  not 
forfeiting  her  office  as  a  teacher  of  the  Truth,  and  so  has  she 
not  her  candlestick  removed  ?  I  own  that  I  feel  a  good  deal 
frightened  lest  we  should  be  sophizing.  I  am  not  at  all 
unhappy  at  present,  nor  shall  I  be  till  the  decree  is  distinctly 
pronounced  and  acted  on.  And  this  ought  to  be  enough  for 
the  present.  Yet  having  my  pen  directed  Hursley-wards,  it 
seems  natural  to  "speer  one  question  at"  the  vicar. 

The  work  of  the  Mission  was  most  heart-filling.  We 
gathered  strength  and  confidence  as  we  went  on;  and  at 
Banbury,  so  far  as  one  can  judge,  the  effect  was  very  deeply 
felt.  On  Wednesday,  e.g.  the  last  day,  two  hundred  com- 
municants were  present  at  eight,  and  at  the  eleven  o'clock  service, 
when  the  Bishop  preacht  on  Perseverance,  between  two  thousand 
and  three  thousand.  It  was  a  thrilling  sight.  We  struck  out 


76  TROUBLED   TIMES  1847- 

in  the  evenings  into  the  neighbouring  villages,  and  preacht 
on  Conversion,  etc.  The  churches  were  everywhere  filled.  It 
was  worth  observing  how  readily  and  gladly  the  people  answered 
the  call,  and  however  the  direct  object  of  the  work  might 
have  succeeded,  the  following  points  are  certainly  gained : — 

1.  The   orderly   array   of  clergy   in   procession,  duly  vested 
in  surplice,  stole,  and  hood. 

2.  The   possibility   of  unity   of  action   among   men    holding 
different  shades  of  opinion,  yet  in  the  Church. 

3.  The  assertion  of  a  Bishop's  right  to  deal  with  the  souls 
in  his  Diocese,  and  not  merely  with  the  clergy. 

4.  The  sight  of  a  clergy  calling  loudly  to  repentance. 

5.  The  invitation  to  individuals  to  draw  near  for  confession, 
counsel,  absolution,  and  comfort. 


REV.  J.  KEBLE  TO  W.  J.  B. 

H.  V.,  4th  Friday  in  Lent,  1850. 

Thank  you  over  and  over  for  your  note  on  the  Brotherhood. 
I  hope  they  have  got  their  Rule  from  a  better  and  more  experienced 
hand.  You  were  not  aware  how  very  simple  the  information 
which  I  meant  to  ask  for :  such  as  a  time  table,  a  copy  of  external 
rules,  etc.  I  am  such  an  entire  novice  in  such  things.  It  has, 
however,  as  I  hope,  begun.  God  grant  it  may  go  on  and  prosper. 

I  have  been  full  of  care  about  that  Gorham  case  on  the  ground 
that  you  suggest,  and  was  for  instituting  a  suit  in  the  Arches 
Court  immediately  against  Mr.  G.  for  heresy  only,  without  refer- 
ence to  Institution  or  anything  else,  which  I  hoped  would  prevent 
the  Archbishop  from  giving  him  mission  immediately.  But  it 
seems  that  for  several  reasons  this  cannot  be  done.  The  next 
thing  will  be  to  know  exactly  how  far  any  Prelate  giving  him 
mission  or  publicly  owning  his  doctrine  taints  himself  with 
heresy.  To  this  end  one  ought  to  know :  (1)  The  exact  articles 
brought  against  him ;  (2)  the  exact  words  of  Sir  Herbert  Jenner 
Fust's  sentence ;  (3)  those  of  the  sentence  now  pronounced,  not 
as  being  of  any  force,  but  as  possibly  containing  what  may  taint 
one  acting  upon  it  with  heresy.  For  these  documents  I  have 
applied  to  Badeley.  If  it  appear  that  there  is  really  contradiction 
of  the  Nicene  Creed,  I  suppose  Bishops  in  their  Diocesan  Synods, 


1853  THE   GORHAM    DECISION  77 

and  Archdeacons  and  Eural  Deans  in  their  fractional  gatherings, 
are  competent  to  state  publicly  the  true  doctrine,  to  draw  atten- 
tion to  the  contradiction  of  it,  and  to  ask  all  other  Dioceses  to 
concur  in  demanding  a  Synod  to  put  the  thing  to  rights.  I 
know  not  how  else  the  truth  is  to  be  ecclesiastically  vindicated. 
It  is  a  great  risk,  but  what  else  can  be  done  1  I  have  had  half  a 
mind  to  write  to  your  Bishop  about  it.  All  honour  to  him  for 
what  he  has  just  been  doing  for  us — for  the  work  itself  and  for 
the  time  of  doing  it.  How  mercifully  we  seem  to  be  both 
punished  and  relieved.  .  .  . 


W.  J.  B.  TO  REV.  J.  KEBLE. 

WANTAGE  VICARAGE,  March  11  [1850]. 

Now  that  the  decision  is  fairly  (or  rather  unfairly)  promul- 
gated, I  confess  that  my  heart  trembles  for  the  results.  And 
after  weighing  the  matter  in  such  poor  way  as  I  am  able,  I  can 
bring  myself  to  contemplate  two  alternatives  only,  and  it  seems 
to  me  that  it  is  my  duty  either  to  leave  the  Establisht  Church 
or  to  give  up  life  and  everything  else  if  needful,  to  work  towards 
her  Restoration.  I  cannot  help  feeling  that  any  course  short  of 
one  of  these  must  be  to  the  soul's  peril.  Naturally  one  clings  to 
the  latter.  The  former  seems  most  awful  to  me,  and  I  shrink 
from  any  condition  which  it  implies,  i.e.  from  'nonjuring'  Scotch 
Episcopal  or  Roman  Communion.  In  regard  to  the  first  I  feel 
a  dread  of  splitting,  Babelising  the  Church. 

My  immediate  object  for  troubling  you  is  to  ask  whether  you 
could  conveniently  take  me  in  for  a  night,  if  I  can  find  a  chance 
to  leave  Wantage  for  a  day  or  two.  It  seems  presumptuous  to 
attempt  to  suggest,  when  heads  so  much  wiser  and  hearts  so 
much  purer  are  set  upon  remedying  this  awful  grievance.  But  I 
might  privately  and  to  you  open  a  plan  for  action  which  occurs  to 
me.  My  idea  is  that  a  regular  organization  of  parishes  ought  at 
once  to  be  formed,  working  under  the  Bishop  wherever  this  is 
possible,  as  I  think  that  it  would  be  in  the  Diocese  of  Oxford; 
that  a  central  committee,  with  as  little  demonstration  or  noise  as 
possible,  so  as  not  to  excite  jealousy  and  talk,  might  act  as  an 
accumulator  of  facts  and  a  provider  of  deputations,  and  that  a 
few  men  might  be  sent  about  for  this  purpose,  who  would  speak 


78  TROUBLED   TIMES  1847- 

earnestly,  lovingly,  clearly,  and  truly,  to  the  various  parishes,  at 
meetings  to  which  the  clergyman  should  admit  by  ticket  such  of 
his  parishioners  as  would  attend  for  the  purpose  of  good,  not  to 
jeer  or  argue.  This  to  be  started  at  once,  and  not  to  cease  till  all 
England  is  [illegible].  My  parishioners  are  hearty  in  the  cause. 

W.  J.  B.  TO  EEV.  J.  KEBLE. 

[?  March,  1850.] 

I  left  Hursley  yesterday  a  happier  and  I  hope  a  wiser  and 
patienter  man  than  when  I  entered  it.  I  feel  peace  and  confid- 
ence in  the  result  of  our  struggle.  Thank  you  very  much  for 
all  your  kindness.  I  write  now  (1)  to  enclose  a  line  from  our 
dear  Bishop,  (2)  to  ask  you  to  print  and  let  me  have  a  copy  of 
your  Hursley  petition — an  audacious  request — and  a  few  copies 
of  the  Sarum  Breviary  prayers. 

I  hear  from  Carter  as  follows  :  "The  Bishop  of  0.,  whom  I  saw 
yesterday  after  his  return  from  London,  where  he  had  seen  the 
Bishop  of  L.,  reports  that  Convocation  at  present  is  hopeless,  but 
that  there  is  good  hope  of  getting  the  Archbishop  to  convene  the 
Episcopal  Bench  to  make  a  decision  not  on  the  whole  subject  of 
Baptismal  Regeneration,  but  on  the  definite  point  of  remission  of 
original  sin  in  Baptism  and  its  being  no  hindrance  to  grace,  to  which 
point  Keble  narrows  the  ground.  .  .  .  The  Bishop  also  reports 
that  the  Bishop  of  L.  will  bring  in  a  Bill  to  constitute  the  Upper 
House  of  Convocation.  The  Court  of  Final  Appeal,  with  some 
judges  as  assessors,  to  be  summoned  by  Royal  writ  for  the  express 
cases." 

In  the  Chichester  archdeaconry  ninety-two  out  of  one  hundred 
are  prepared  to  support  the  move.  The  Archdeacon l  therefore 
is  in  better  heart.  I  found  three  more  signatures  at  Wantage  on 
my  arrival  to  a  requisition  to  the  Archdeacon  of  Berks  to  convene 
his  clergy.  Every  single  one  whom  I  have  yet  seen  or  heard  of 
in  this  neighbourhood,  a  singularly  dull  one,  has  willingly  come 
in  to  such  a  proposal.  I  think  that  we  must  be  on  our  guard  lest 
we  get  hoodwinked  by  some  of  our  Right  Rev.  friends.  I  infer 
this  from  some  touches  in  Carter's  letter.  Would  it  be  well  to 
print  the  "  whethers  "  of  yesterday  morning  ? 

1Ven.  H.  E.  Manning. 


i853  CONSULTATIONS  79 

REV.  J.  KEBLE  TO  W.  J.  B. 

H.  V.,  Monday  in  Holy  Week,  1850. 

I  hope  I  have  not  put  you  out  by  not  writing  sooner.  I 
rather  waited  for  the  good  Doctor  to  be  here,  hoping  to  answer 
more  satisfactorily.  He  says,  with  regard  to  the  Convocation 
move,  "  All  very  well,  if  you  can  trust  it  when  met."  He  quite 
concurs  in  the  misgivings  about  our  Rt.  Revd.  friends.  For 
which  reason  I  should  think  it  very  desirable  that  clerical 
movements  in  the  sense  of  our  resolutions,  and  parochial 
movements  in  the  sense  of  this  "petition,"  should  be  got  up 
as  widely  and  as  quickly  as  possible.  As  far  as  I  can  make 
out,  our  people  here  are  quite  prepared  to  adopt  this  "  petition," 
only  there  is  some  confusion  in  their  honest  minds  about  the 
Supremacy.  ...  I  think  I  am,  on  the  whole,  for  printing  the 
"  whethers," l  especially  if  the  Low  Church,  or  any  considerable 
number  of  them,  are  inclined  to  go  with  us  on  that  point.  I 
am  not  sure  that  in  saying  this  I  am  not  more  or  less  influenced 
by  the  idea  that  Convocation  cannot  be  got,  but  that  a  strong 
call  made  for  it  would  have  a  wholesome  tonic  effect  upon  the 
Bishops. 

Your  letter  was  a  great  comfort  to  me.  I  do  trust,  for  all 
counter-appearances,  there  is  an  immense  deal  of  soundness  in 
the  heart  of  the  English  Church. 

W.  J.  B.  TO  REV.  J.  KEBLE. 

WANTAGE  VICARAGE,  Sept.  2,  1850. 

I  have  read  carefully  the  B.  C.  U. 2  paper,  and  your  alterations 
(proposed).  I  feel  very  strongly  with  you  that  (II.)  is  most 
objectionable,  (III.)  I  could  sign  as  it  stands,  (I.)  as  altered  to 
"  as  a  Branch,"  etc.  I  do  not  feel  any  objection  to  the  resolutions 
— perhaps  I  should  like  to  see  the  expression  'repudiation  of 
Romanism '  modified.  I  suppose  that  we  must  meet  somewhere, 

1  "Probably  a  series  of  questions  drawn  up  by  Mr.  Keble  concerning 
the  right   of  the   Privy   Council   to   legislate   for  the    Church,   the 
grounds   of   their    decision  about   Holy  Baptism,   and  the  duty  of 
Churchmen  at  this  crisis." — R#v.  W.  Lock,  D.D. 

2  Bristol  Church  Union— vide  Life  of  Dr.  Pusey,  vol.  iii.,  p.  274,  etc. 


8o  TROUBLED   TIMES  1847- 

and  February  is  fairly  distant.  ...  I  think  that  it  would  be  a 
pity  to  stop  agitation,  unless  any  better  plan  is  likely  to  be  set  on 
foot  immediately.  I  am  more  afraid  of  sleep  and  lotus-eater 
lethargy  than  of  anything  else.  We  are  in  a  frozen  atmosphere, 
and  to  sleep  is  to  perish — at  least  so  it  seems  to  me.  I  should 
like  very  much  to  ask  you  about  Church  Unions.  They  do  not 
approve  themselves  to  my  mind,  but  so  many  better  judges 
uphold  them,  that  I  think  I  must  be  wrong.  I  want  to  see 
Archidiaconal  Unions,  which  would  be  a  legitimate  Church  Synod, 
especially  when,  as  would  sometimes  happen,  the  Archdeacon 
would  head  it.  But  I  suppose  that  it  is  too  late  to  talk  of  such  an 
arrangement  now  that  the  Church  Unions  are  in  full  action. 

We  have  been  abroad — to  Germany — to  take  charge  of  Ph. 
Pusey.  ...  I  saw  a  good  deal  (for  a  short  visit)  of  the  Catholic 
clergy  of  the  towns,  and  I  am  much  struck  by  their  friendliness 
and  freedom  from  assumption.  It  felt  like  talking  to  a  brother 
priest.  Their  tone  was  very  different  from  that  of  some  of  their 
new  men.  One  of  them  askt  me  if  I  used  the  '  Pusey  ritus.' l 

The  four  letters  which  follow  were  written  to  a 
young  lady  whose  confidence  in  the  Church  of 
England  had  been  shaken  by  the  Gorham  judgement, 
and  by  its  consequences  in  the  secession  to  Rome 
of  several  of  her  friends.  She,  however,  remained 
steadfast  to  the  Church  of  her  baptism. 

W.  J.  B.  TO . 

[February  10,  1850.] 

...  I  think  that  I  ought  to  say  that  I  am  not  frightened 
about  the  Gorham  case  unless  the  decision  is  against  the  Bishop. 
I  look  on  the  committee  of  Privy  Council  as  merely  the  arbiters 
appointed  by  the  State  to  see  that  the  Church  keeps  to  the  terms 
of  the  concordat  between  Church  and  State  embodied  in  her 
formularies,  as  dealing,  that  is,  merely  with  the  establishment, 
not  necessarily  touching  the  Church.  If  they  reverse  the 

1  Many  years  afterwards,  in  1880,  a  Tyrolese  parson  asked  him,  "Sind 
Sie  Posuit?  "  He  was  puzzled,  but  I  guessed  the  meaning  and  answered, 
"•/a,  geioiss" — A.  J.  B. 


1853  COUNSELS  OF  PATIENCE  81 

Bishop's  decision,  even  then  they  are,  supposing  them  to  be 
honest  men,  only  doing  their  duty,  and  we  have  no  right  to 
find  fault  with  them,  though  we  may  find  fault  with  our  formu- 
laries as  being  deficient  in  precision,  and  though  we  may  and 
must  refuse  to  accept  the  decision  for  the  Church.  It  will 
be  the  decision  for  the  Establishment  unless  Parliament  agrees 
to  allow  the  Church  to  alter  her  formularies  and  still  to 
remain  the  Establishment.  Have  I  made  myself  comprehensible  ? 

W.  J.  B.  TO  . 

[March  10,  1850.] 

...  In  the  first  place  our  duty  is,  manifestly,  to  wait  till 
Mr.  Gorham  is  inducted.  Arius  was  triumphant  till — he  died. 
And  even  then  it  must  be  months  before  we  can  possibly  judge 
of  our  real  condition.  I  am  inclined,  though  I  own  not  very 
much,  to  the  side  of  hope.  But  one  thing  is  also  clear — that 
we  must  be  content  to  live  in  a  struggle  to  our  lives'  end,  to 
be  "men  of  strife."  That,  if  no  worse,  is  sure  to  be  our  portion. 
We  must  fight  for  the  truth  by  prayer  and  fasting,  self-denial 
in  everything,  stern  unflinching  resolution  to  look  at  nothing 
else,  be  content  to  bear  disappointment  and  coldness,  to  be 
misunderstood  and  hated.  "The  sword"  has  come,  and  we 
must  not  cling  to  "peace."  .  .  .  What  a  marvellous  comfort- 
to  be  drawn  from  Epistle,  Gospel,  Lessons,  and  Psalms  of 
this  day. 

W.  J.  B.  TO  . 

WANTAGE  VICAKAGE,  June  12,  1850. 

.  .  .  Next,  what  is  the  difficulty  1  It  lies  in  this  that  the  true 
notion  of  the  Church  is  that  she  is  the  keeper  of  the  Faith,  and  its 
promulgator ;  that  it  lies  with  her  to  lay  down,  to  rearrange,  to 
define,  to  judge  all  that  relates  to  it.  Whereas  now  she  is,  it 
would  seem,  likely  to  admit  a  heretic  to  the  Cure  of  souls,  and  to 
submit  her  decision  to  the  revision  of  an  extraneous  and  worldly 
court.  Miserable  truly.  Yet  against  this  set  the  fact  that  these 
evil  doings  are  not  tamely  acquiesced  in ;  that  a  power  is  rising 
through  the  Church  which,  one  may  reasonably  believe,  will  and 
must,  working  only  in  faith,  prevail;  that  such  doctrines  and 
demands  as  were  never  heard  of  here  before,  have  been  boldly 

F 


82  TROUBLED   TIMES  1847- 

brought  out  in  high  places,  that  the  stir  is  not  over,  but  rather  on 
the  increase,  and,  if  one  may  appeal  to  human  authority,  men 
like  Mr.  Keble  and  Dr.  Pusey,  holy,  learned,  clear-sighted, 
endowed  with  the  spirit  of  martyrs,  are  far  from  disheartened.  I 
will  say  nothing  of  the  distinctive  errors  of  Rome,  nor  of  the  evil 
dispositions  which  have  shown  themselves  in  those  who  have 
left  us,  apparently  proving  that  God  has  not  been  with  them,  but 
one  cannot  help  gathering  from  this  more  courage  and  determina- 
tion to  fight  the  great  and  good  fight  of  faith,  seeing  that  our 
retreat  is  well-nigh  cut  off.  .  .  .  Our  work  is  to  pray  for  the 
Church  of  England  without  misgiving.  "Believe  that  ye  shall  have 
it."  To  doubt  is  to  lose  our  power,  to  bring  about  the  very 
crisis  which  we  deprecate.  To  forsake  the  Church  of  England 
now,  is,  in  my  view,  to  destroy  that  chance  of  unity  which  the 
Eomanizers  so  stickle  for.  It  may  be  the  result  of  the  faithless- 
ness of and  others  that  these  difficulties  encompass  us  now. 

Surely  the  book  of  Job  may  teach  us  somewhat  not  merely  of 
patience  but  of  a  misunderstood  position.  He  "  had  well-nigh  said 
even  as  they,"  i.e.  the  talk  and  folly  of  his  friends  had  nearly 
made  him  what  they  thought  him  at  first,  a  hypocrite  and  sinner. 
Just  as  men  would  now  make  the  Church  of  England  a  sham  and 
an  engine  of  Satan. 

W.  J.  B.  TO  . 

[26th  Sunday  after  Trinity,  1850.] 

...  I  must  in  honesty  say  that  I  think  our  position  a  very 
painful  one,  though  not  the  less  on  that  account  to  be  retained. 
I  mean  that  since  that  fearful  Gorham  decision  we  are  reduced  to 
a  negative  argument.  We  cannot  defend  ourselves.  We  can  only 
find  fault  with  others.  I  am  more  comforted  by  the  present 
mobbing  of  Puseyites  than  by  anything  else.  It  looks  like 
reality.  It  is  pleasant  to  find  RC.,  Low  Church,  No  Church, 
rabble,  etc.,  all  banding  together  to  destroy  that  one  thing  which 
oneself  is.  ...  You  will  be  glad  to  hear  that  by  God's  mercy 
the  good  work  is  prospering,  and  that  I  see  my  way  to  that 
favourite  idea  of  mine  in  former  days,  the  double  Sisterhood 
for  Penitents  and  Schools. 

An  address  of  sympathy  was  sent  from  Wantage  to 
Bishop  Phillpotts  which  he  briefly  acknowledged. 


1853  OPPOSITION   BEGINS  83 

BISHOP  PHILLPOTTS  or  EXETER  TO  W.  J.  B. 

BISHOPSTOWE,  TORQUAY, 
Easter  Eve,  1850. 

REV.  SIR, — Accept  my  sincere,  however  tardy,  thanks  for  the 
address  which  you,  and  the  other  Clergy  of  Wantage,  have  had 
the  goodness  to  make  to  me.  Be  assured  that  I  feel  it  strongly 
to  be  not  merely  a  gratification,  but  a  support. 

I  have  nothing  to  suggest.  Such  men  will  best  act,  when 
opportunity  shall  be  presented,  on  their  own  principles  and 
judgement.  .  .  . 

P.S. — Your  name,  connected  with  Wantage,  cannot  but  excite 
stirring  associations. 

In  talking  of  this  troubled  time,  long  afterwards, 
William  Butler  was  wont  to  say  that  the  rise  of  decided 
opposition  in  the  parish  might  be  dated  from  it.  But 
secessions  to  Rome  were  not  the  only  evil  fruit  of 
that  disastrous  year.  On  September  24,  1850,  what 
has  ever  since  been  called  "  Papal  Aggression  "  took 
place,  and  the  Protestant  feeling  of  the  country  was 
kindled  into  a  flame  by  the  news  of  the  Pope  having 
mapped  out  England  into  bishoprics. 

This  coming  close  upon  the  secession  of  the  Sisters 
ripened  the  seeds  of  suspicion  and  discontent  which 
the  vicar's  strongly  pronounced  Churchmanship  and 
fearless  attack  of  abuses  had  sown.  Those  who  had 
come  under  his  rebuke  for  sin,  as  well  as  those  who 
disagreed  with  his  religious  opinions,  were  glad  to 
seize  the  opportunity  which  these  unhappy  circum- 
stances had  given,  to  denounce  him  and  his  system. 
What  made  this  the  harder  for  him  to  bear  was  the 
fact  that  many  who  now  went  into  opposition  had 
been  up  to  this  time  good  Church  people  and  his 


84  TROUBLED   TIMES  1847- 

supporters.  In  the  year  1852  the  storm  broke  at  a 
Vestry  meeting,  held  to  consider  the  question  of  the  re- 
storation of  the  parish  church.  The  story  may  be  told 
in  his  own  words  taken  from  the  "Parish  Journal." 

Thursday,  April  1.  I  must  here  record  the  first  distinct 
disaster,  humanly  speaking,  which  has  befallen  my  ministrations 
in  this  town.  A  Vestry  meeting  had  been  called  after  much 
consultation,  to  consider  the  restoration  of  the  church  according 
to  plans  prepared  by  Mr.  Street.  I  felt  the  awkwardness  of 
such  a  meeting  when  Dissenters  could  take  a  part,  and  more 
especially  because  I  knew  well  their  exceeding  hostility  to  me. 

But prest  the  Yestry  as  the  only  means  of  getting  at  the 

Parish,  and  I  think  somewhat  foolishly  I  agreed  to  hold  it. 
I  say  foolishly,  for  since  I  did  not  ask  a  rate,  the  whole 
work  might  have  been,  and  probably  will  be,  carried  through 
without  their  permission.  However,  I  was  very  anxious  not 
to  appear  to  act  in  an  arbitrary  manner,  the  more  as  I  am  so 
continually  accused  of  doing  so.  Still  I  was  not  prepared  for 
the  fierce  opposition  I  encountered.  On  the  previous  day 
handbills  had  been  printed  and  circulated,  and  the  Crier  sent 
round  with  his  bell,  and  a  proclamation  inviting  the  people 
(Protestants)  to  come  and  oppose  Popery,  etc.  Then  the 
Wesleyan  Preacher  stimulated  all  within  his  reach,  and  — 
gave  his  men  half  a  day  to  come  and  vote  at  the  Vestry. 
By  these  unscrupulous  measures,  for  which  I  ought  to  have 
been  prepared,  a  strong  party  of  Dissenters  of  the  worst  kind 
were  brought  to  the  Vestry,  and  in  a  very  short  time  it  was 
packt  with  enemies,  ready  for  anything.  I  stated  my  views 
and  explained  the  plans,  and  was  heard  not  unfavourably. 
Then  Mr.  Wasbrough  proposed  as  a  resolution,  and  Cooper 
seconded,  that  it  is  desirable  to  restore  and  reseat  the  church 
without  a  rate,  etc.  W.  Dixon  opposed  it,1  and  then  the 
clamour  partially  began  with  vociferous  cheering  of  anything 

said   against   the   restoration.      Then of  Fawley  opposed 

it,    not    on    any    grounds    except    that    he    wisht    to   have    a 

1  Tradition  has  handed  down  his  opening  words  :  "  People  say  as 
how  I  be  the  pa'son's  man  ;  but  I  bean't  the  pa'son's  man  in  this  here 
job."  He  gave  £25  before  the  business  was  over. 


i853  THE   STORM    BREAKS  85 

door  to  his  pew.  ...  So  of  Lockinge  opposed  it  be- 
cause of  his  pew.  Then got  up  and  said  a  great  deal 

about  intoning  the  service,  etc.     of  Charlton  spoke  of  the 

mummeries,  flummeries,  tomfooleries,  and  other  savoury 
expressions  by  which  he  chose  to  designate  our  services. 
This  brought  up  Trinder  who,  amid  much  interruption,  took 
occasion  to  speak  of  the  doings  of  yesterday,  the  Crier,  the 
Rabble,  etc.  The  word  Rabble  set  the  whole  meeting  by  the 
ears,  and  he  ended  his  speech  with  much  difficulty.  Trinder 
spoke  nicely  on  the  subject  of  the  restoration  and  convincingly, 
if  argument  could  convince  such  a  set.  After  a  great  deal  of 
noise,  lasting  for  three  hours,  the  proposition  was  put  and 
negatived  by  a  large  majority.  So  ended  this  unfortunate 
Vestry.  Have  we  prayed  enough  that  the  good  work  of  the 
restoration  be  accomplisht  ?  All  seems  to  me  to  rest  on  this. 

Writes  an  old  friend  : 

I  happened  to  be  staying  at  the  Vicarage  at  the  time, 
and  remember  how  he  came  in  broken  down  and  dejected 
for  the  moment,  and  blaming  himself  for  having  made 
the  attempt  too  soon.  He  had  originally  given  himself  a 
longer  time,  and  then  had  not  waited.  I  heard  that  at  the 
meeting  he  was  perfectly  self-controlled  and  equal  to  the 
occasion.  You  may  have  heard  of  one  famous  retort  at  this 
meeting — "Sir,"  said  one  of  his  opponents  in  a  rage,  "I  am 
at  a  loss  to  know  whether  you  are  more  knave  or  fool." 
"Time  will  show,  sir,  time  will  show,"  was  the  instant  reply. 
For  perhaps  two  or  three  years  after,  this  unpopularity 
continued.  I  remember  a  rather  grim  joke  which  he  was 
fond  of  in  those  days, — an  allusion  to  the  cry  of  the  French 
Revolution,  a  la  lanterne.  He  used  to  declare  that  he  expected 
to  be  hung  up  to  one  of  the  lamp-posts  in  the  town,  and  I 
think  there  was  a  spice  of  earnest  underlying  the  joke,  and 
that  he  really  was  persuaded  that  he  might  meet  with 
personal  violence.  Insulting  inscriptions  were  chalked  upon  the 
walls,  and  Sister  Harriet  told  me  that  she  and  another  from 
the  Home  used  to  go  out  late  at  night  to  wash  them  off. 

It  was  a  strange  and  troubled  time,  but  he  was  not  a  man 
to  flinch  before  violence.  I  always  think  the  text,  "  I  have 
set  my  face  as  a  flint,"  fitted  him,  and  he  gained  the  reputation 


86  TROUBLED   TIMES  1847 

of  being  (as  I  have  heard  it  said)  "hard  as  nails," — though 
there  was  sensitiveness  and  tenderness  enough  underneath  the 
surface,  as  those  nearest  to  him  knew  very  well.  ...  I  have 
said  more  than  once  that  it  was  remarkably  your  father's  lot 
to  have  one  after  another  come  to  Wantage,  begin  divers 
works  (which  he  himself  would  not  have  originated),  and  then 
go  and  leave  the  deserted  work  on  his  hands.  This  was  the 

case  with   Miss  Lockhart   and  Miss  ,  and  I  want  to  ask 

whether  it   was  not  also   so   with  Mrs   ?     She   built   St. 

Michael's  and  set  up  an  Industrial  School  there,  but  I  have 
never  known  why  or  how  she  left  the  work  she  had  begun. 
At  least  we  know  that  in  every  case  he  took  up  the  deserted 
work — though  not  of  his  own  originating — and  built  it  up  again. 

In  addition  to  these  parochial  troubles  he  was  not 
without  his  share  of  domestic  sorrow.  On  March  14, 
1851,  his  eldest  daughter  Frances  Charlotte,  had  died 
at  the  age  of  five,  only  ten  days  after  the  birth  of 
another  child.  This  was  a  deep  and  lasting  grief.1 

His  Bishop's  sympathy  was  not  wanting. 

BISHOP  OF  OXFORD  TO  W.  J.  B.  . 


THE  CARRIAGE, 
NEAR  BUCKLANU,  March  17,  1851. 

MY  DEAR  BUTLER, — Thank  you  for  your  note  by  Balleine. 
I  was  truly  grieved  to  hear  its  sad  announcement,  and  feel 
deeply  for  you.  This  time  of  year  comes  to  me  so  fully 
charged  with  sorrows  that  I  can  enter  into  the  griefs  of  all 
others.  This  day  ten  years  I  walked  out  of  our  sweet 
Lavington  Churchyard  a  desolated  man.  I  thank  God  for 
the  firm  faith  and  meek  resignation  which  He  has  given  you 
and  your  wife.  It  is  a  great  thing  to  be  so  upheld.  May  He 
never  leave  you  nor  forsake  you.  .  .  . 

1More  than  thirty  years  later  he  wrote  to  one  who  had  been  similarly 
bereaved :  "  The  death  of  one's  child  is  like  nothing  else.  Even 
when,  after  many  years,  the  wound  is  more  or  less  healed,  the 
feeling  always  remains  with  one,  of  something  being  gone  from 
one's  life — a  sort  of  blank  like  the  loss  of  a  limb." 


CHAPTER  IV. 
THE  PAEISH. 

DURING  the  early  fifties,  William  Butler  was  much 
occupied  in  fighting  the  battle  of  definite  Church 
teaching  in  parochial  schools.  This  was  involved 
in  the  use  of  the  Church  Catechism,  for  which  he 
vigorously  contended.  It  was  an  anxious  time, 
for  the  National  Society  had  shown  a  disposition 
to  compromise,  i.e.  not  to  insist  on  the  Catechism 
being  used  in  Church  schools,  and  he  regarded  this 
as  fatal  to  true  Church  teaching.  Many  letters  passed 
between  him  and  some  of  the  leading  clergy  of  the 
day,  Mr.  Keble,  Canon  Carter,  and  others,  who 
warmly  supported  his  views.  The  following,  how- 
ever, will  be  sufficient  to  illustrate  his  position. 

W.  J.  B.  TO  REV.  J.  KEBLE. 

WANTAGE  VICARAGE,  Feb.  25,  1853. 

I  have  written  to  the  Bishop  and  this  is  his  answer :  "I 
believe  you  know  that  it  had  been,  after  a  division,  resolved 
by  the  Nat.  S.  to  offer  to  the  Bishops  a  common  form  of 
enquiry  into  the  late  teaching  in  schools ;  but  that  on  a  ground 
of  technical  correctness  this  decision  was  afterwards  set  aside. 


88  THE   PARISH  1853 

Still  queries  have  been  sent  by  many  in  consequence  of  the 
promised  communication  from  the  N.  S.,  and  are  being  sent 
by  others.  The  answers,  I  understand,  so  far  as  they  have 
been  sent,  are  very  satisfactory.  My  advice,  therefore,  in  the 
matter  would  be  that  at  present  we  await  the  replies  that 
are  coming  in,  and  that  we  resist  all  agitation  until  we  see 
from  those  replies  what  the  real  state  of  the  case  is.  That 
agitation  has  already  led  to  the  formation  of  an  additional 
(so-called)  Church  Education  Society  in  opposition  to  the 
N.  S.,  one  of  the  most  threatening  instruments,  I  think,  of 
our  further  divisions."  Were  you  aware  of  this  'setting  aside' 
of  which  the  Bishop  speaks  ?  I  for  one  was  not,  nor  do  I 
think  that  any  public  notification  has  been  made  thereof.  This, 
if  it  be  so,  is  scarcely  fair  and  honest,  and  ought  to  be  lookt 
into.  Then,  one  desiderates  some  more  definite  knowledge 
than  that  'queries  have  been  sent  by  many.'  By  whom? 
The  Bishop  of  Exeter,  I  think.  They  have  not  been  sent  in 
this  Diocese,  but  possibly  this  may  be  attributed  to  the  fact 
that  we  are  fairly  mapt  out  among  inspectors,  who,  at  the 
annual  meeting  at  Cuddesdon,  can  bring  forward,  if  desired, 
the  very  minutest  details.  I  hope  that  we  may  escape  another 
N.  S.  disturbance.  Denison  is  a  difficult  dog  to  chain  up,  and 
the  worst  of  it  is  if  he  sets  to  work  the  others  will  do  the 
same,  and  we  must  go,  to  prevent  the  N.  S.  falling  into  their 
hands.  I  am  inclined  to  think,  or  rather  I  feel  convinced, 
that  our  Bishop  will  '  shew  fight '  when  once  he  is  convinced 
that  the  nodus  is  vindice  dignus.  And  moreover,  from  much 
acquaintance  with  him,  I  feel  sure  that  he  is  quite  reasonable, 
I  mean  that  he  is  quite  ready  to  be  convinced,  even  against 
his  own  first  impressions.  But  he  is  rather  like  the  Athenians 
at  Sphacteria,  afraid  that  all  is  going  wrong  except  when  he 
is  personally  present,  And,  it  must  be  owned,  Denison  is  not 
very  adroit.  The  only  plan,  or  part  of  a  plan,  therefore,  which 
occurs  to  me,  is  that  he  should  be  worked — in  all  the  steps 
which  may  suggest  themselves  as  desirable  to  others.  I  shall 
write  again  to  him  soon  and  get,  if  I  can,  a  more  definite 
explanation  of  the  Committee  of  N.  S. — their  doings.  I  ought 
to  say  that  he  heads  his  letter  to  me  'Confidential,'  though 
really  I  cannot  see  what  there  is  of  '  Confidential '  in  it.  He 
knows  that  you  wrote  to  me,  and  that  I  wanted  an  answer 


i8S3  RURAL   DEAN  89 

partly  for  you,  and  therefore,  of  course,  he  does  not  object  to 
my  passing  his  answer  on.  ... 

A  compromise  was  the  result  of  many  meetings 
and  much  anxious  correspondence,  but  on  the 
whole  the  definite  Church  party  had  the  best  of  it. 

About  this  time  the  office  of  Rural  Dean  was 
added  to  his  labours. 

BISHOP  OF  OXFORD  TO  W.  J.  B. 

26  PALL  MALL,  April  15,  1853. 

MY  DEAR  BUTLER,— Will  you  undertake  the  charge  of  the 
Rural  Deanery  vacated  by  Dr.  Nelson  1  You  know  me  so  well 
that  I  need  not  say  one  word  to  you  as  to  any  particulars  about 
the  office.  Except  that  if  in  anything  concerning  it  I  can  aid 
you,  it  will  ever  be  a  pleasure  to  me  to  do  so.  I  am  ever 
affectionately  yours  S.  OXON. 

My  affectionate  remembrances  to  Mrs.  Butler. 

With  all  his  external  work  and  interests  the  in- 
ternal affairs  of  his  parish  occupied  the  larger  share 
of  his  thoughts,  and  indeed  grew  more  absorb- 
ing year  by  year.  In  spite  of  the  check  he  had 
received  in  1852  in  his  attempt  to  get  the  parish 
church  restored,  he  had  by  no  means  lost  heart  or 
confidence.  He  was  content  to  go  quietly  on  with 
his  work,  while  the  money  gradually  accumulated 
for  the  purpose  which  he  felt  sure  he  should  eventu- 
ally accomplish. 

In  an  epitome  of  the  year  1854  in  the  "Parish 
Journal"  he  wrote: 

This  year  has  seen  one  great  difficulty  removed,  removed 
as  I  believe  securely,  and  nothing  now  remains  to  prevent  the 
restoration  of  our  church  to  a  Christian  condition  except  the 


90  THE   PARISH  1857 

obtaining  of  the  sum  needed  for  the  purpose.  Of  this  we 
have  in  hand  £1,050;  with  £500  more  we  may,  without 
imprudence,  begin  our  operations.  For  this  much  prayer  is 
needed,  as  well  as  that  no  unkind  feeling  may  remain,  and 
so  mar  the  work  when  done. 

By  1st  October,  1855,  he  had  so  far  won  over  his 
antagonists  as  to  be  able  to  preside  at  the  vicar- 
age, at  a  meeting  of  influential  parishioners,  called  to 
deliberate  on  the  restoration  of  the  church.  By 
July  1857  this  was  an  accomplished  fact. 

July  30.  A  day  much  to  be  remembered,  as,  by  God's 
mercy,  an  end  and  a  beginning — an  end  of  the  old  degraded 
ungodly  state  of  God's  House,  which  could  not  but  act  for  evil 
on  the  hearts  of  our  folk,  and  the  beginning  of  comeliness, 
fitness,  and  beauty.  This  day  is  indeed  an  ample  recompense 
for  much  disappointment  and  weariness  of  heart,  and  it  is, 
perhaps  for  the  very  reason  of  all  this,  the  more  cheering  and 
sustaining.  Five  years  ago  we  were  all  out  of  spirits.  The 
hope  of  restoring  our  church  to  the  beauty  of  holiness  seemed 
almost  a  dream.  We  had  no  means,  and  the  parish  had  set 
itself  fiercely  against  it.  Now  all  has  been  done,  so  far  as  it 
is  done,  well,  and  there  is  scarcely  one  in  the  parish  who  has 
not  in  some  way  contributed  to  the  work.  All  have  been 
roused  to  enthusiasm,  and  a  restoration  of  a  specially  pro- 
nounced kind  is  so  popular,  that  I  cannot  but  feel  and  hope  that 
it  will  in  a  degree  affect  all  the  churches  in  the  neighbourhood. 

We  had  endeavoured  to  persuade  the  Bishop  to  have  no 
late  Celebration,  but  as  he  objected  to  this,  of  course  we  gave 
way  at  once,  and  arranged  accordingly.  We  had,  however,  our 
usual  Celebration  at  eight  o'clock,  at  which  some  75  attended.  All 
were  hard  at  work  till  eleven,  when  the  numbers  of  the  clergy 
began  to  increase.  Mackonochie l  had  the  charge  of  marshalling 
the  clergy,  and  of  giving  those  who  were  to  assist  their  respective 
commissions.  The  arrangement  of  the  church  within  fell  to 
Sawyer,  and  Harvey  had  the  choir.  Purdue  continued  in  the 

1Rev.  A.  H.  Mackonochie,  afterwards  of  St.  Alban's,  Holborn. 


1857  THE   CHURCH    RESTORED  91 

barn  where  the  feast  was  prepared.     Porter  kept  the  decorations 

in   order.     Mr. of  Charlton   kindly  lent   his  carriage  to 

convey  the  Bishop,   and  I  went  in  it  to  meet  him.     We  had 
sent  an  omnibus  to  Wantage  Road,  and  a  van  to  Faringdon 
Road,  and  they  both  returned  loaded  with  friends.     A  Dutch 
barn  belonging  to  Mrs.  Stroud  was  prepared  on  the  vicarage 
lawn  in  order  that  the  clergy  might  vest  in  it,  and  when  the 
Bishop  drove  up  to  the  vicarage  nearly  100,  and  very  soon  after 
upwards   of  100,   were  collected   in   order.     The  procession  of 
clergy    and    choristers    amounted   to    160,   and   they   advanced 
slowly  to  the  church  round  the  north  and  east  sides  under  an 
arch  of  green  (which  had  been  prepared  by  the  Rents1  voluntarily) 
singing  the  68th  psalm,  to  the  church.     The  day  was  propitious, 
and   a  little   rain  that  had  fallen  served  to  make  everything 
brighter  and  fresher.      The  church  was  quite  full ;  I  suppose 
that  upwards   of  1000   were   collected   in   it,  all   orderly   and 
reverent.     There  was  no  bustle  or  confusion.     The  Bishop  said 
the   first   part   of  the   service   at   the   Litany   desk,   and   then 
attended  by  Archdeacons  Randall  and  Clerke  and  by  myself, 
he   proceeded   into   the   sanctuary.      Nothing    could    be    more 
beautiful  than  the  decorations,  which  consisted  of  heavy  green 
wreaths   fitted   into   all  the  arches  and  members  of  the  tower 
arches  with  festoons  wherever  it  was  desirable  to  cover  a  bare 
space.     A  pastoral  staff  was  lent  by  Radley,  and  a  chair  and 
lectern  for  the  Bishop  by  Mr.  Margetts,  of  Oxford,  from  whom 
the   Eagle,   the   gift   of    the   curates   of  the  parish,   had  been 
purchased.      The    "Home"   provided    the    Litany   desk.      The 
service    was    sung    by   the   united   choirs   of   Lambourne  and 
Wantage.     All   were  vested   in   surplices.     The   service   began 
shortly  after  twelve,  and  was  fairly  sung,  well  in  parts,  some- 
times but  poorly,  and  some  careless  mistakes  were  made.     The 
Bishop    of    course    preached    a    very  noble    sermon,   and   the 
collection  was  made  by  ten  men.     It  amounted  to  £167,  which, 
with  £35  in  the  morning  and  £10   in  the  evening,  gave   us 
£220,  a  great  help  towards  clearing  off  our  debt.   .  .   .  The 
service  was  not  over  till  four  o'clock,  when,  after  a  short  interval, 
the  whole  party  adjourned  to  the  barn  in  Newbury  Street,  in 
which   accommodation   and  food   had   been   provided   for    700 
people.      Nothing  could  have  been   more   admirable   than  the 
1  Local  builders. 


92  THE   PARISH  1857 

arrangements.  At  the  high  table,  which  was  raised  considerably 
above  the  ground,  sat  Mr.  Wasbrough  (chairman),  the  Bishop, 
the  Archdeacons,  the  Vicar,  Mr.  Atkins,  H.  Barnett,  Popham, 
T.  Bowles,  and  several  ladies,  while  the  other  tables  were 
stretched  out  before  it,  each  under  the  superintendence  of  some 
one  deputed  for  the  purpose.  All  were  very  orderly  and 
attentive,  and  evidently  taken  and  even  carried  away  with  the 
event  of  the  day.  At  about  half-past  seven  we  again  gathered 
upon  the  vicarage  lawn  and  went  in  procession  to  church.  The 
Archdeacon  preached,  Trinder  and  Popham  read  the  lessons, 
Harvey  said  the  service  as  in  the  morning.  The  church  was 
filled,  though,  from  the  absence  of  a  great  many  of  our  morning 
visitors,  not  so  fully  as  in  the  morning,  but  with  the  people 
whom  one  most  wisht  to  see,  our  labouring  people ;  and  £10,  of 
which  much  was  in  copper,  was  collected.  .  .  .  The  day  was 
kept  quite  as  a  holiday,  and  many  of  the  shops  were  closed. 

Thus  past  such  a  day  as  I  cannot  bring  myself  to  imagine 
that  I  shall  ever  see  again.  Thanks  again  and  again  forever 
be  to  Him  who  has  bountifully  heard  our  prayer  and  granted 
our  desire.  May  He  now  but  give  us  strength  and  grace  to 
carry  on  this  work  to  the  end,  to  view  it  but  as  a  stepping-stone 
to  higher  things,  to  rest  not  till  we  make  our  parish  such  a 
spiritual  temple  as  our  church  now  is. 

One  of  those  associated  with  him  in  the  years 
immediately  preceding  and  following  the  restoration 
of  the  parish  church,  the  Rev.  W.  G.  Sawyer,  now 
vicar  of  Taplow,  has  given  a  sketch  of  the  Vicar's 
relations  with  his  "  brethren,"  as  he  was  fond  of 
calling  his  assistant  curates. 

In  the  summer  of  1854,  after  having  been  disabled  for  a 
year,  I  happened  to  be  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Wantage ; 
for  some  reason  or  other  they  were  in  want  of  help,  and  I 
was  asked  to  go  over  for  a  Sunday.  I  went  for  one  day, 
and  stayed  five  and  a  half  years.  Butler  was  going  that 
Sunday  evening  to  preach  for  Milman  at  Lambourne;  he  asked 
me  to  go  with  him,  and  I  well  remember  how  up  on  the 


1854         REV.   W.   G.   SAWYER'S   RECOLLECTIONS  93 

Berkshire   Downs,   he   offered    me   the    curacy    vacant  by  the 
appointment  of  H.  P.  Liddon  to  Cuddesdon.     Up  to  that  time 
my   acquaintance  with   Butler   had   been   very   slight;   but  in 
this  way  a  friendship  arose  which  has  been  very  precious  to 
me.     Whatever  little  work  I  may  have  been  able  to  do  in  the 
Church  of  God  has  mainly  been  the  result  of  the  training  I 
received  at  Wantage.      Important  as  has  been  the  place  which 
Butler  occupied  in  the  work  of  the  English  Church  at  large, 
he  must  always  remain  in  the  minds  of  us  of  the  older  genera- 
tion,  as   the   Vicar   of  Wantage.      He   showed  perhaps  above 
any  man  of  the  period,  what  the  Church  could  do  among  the 
mixed  population  of  a  small  country  town.     I  often  think  that 
it  is  impossible  for  the  younger  men  among  us  to  realize  what 
was  the  condition  of  the  Church  in  a  place  like  Wantage  fifty 
or   sixty   years   ago.      Butler's   difficulties  were  immense,    but 
the  force  of  his  will  overcame  them  all;  and  the  intense  earnest- 
ness of  his  work  won  the  respect  of  those  of  his  parishioners 
who  disagreed  with  him.     When  I  first  went  to  Wantage  the 
church  was  still  unrestored,  and  not  very  long  before  Butler 
had  received  the  rebuff,  which  it  must  have  been  very  hard 
for  him  to  bear — the  refusal  of  a   faculty  for  the  restoration 
of  the   church   in   consequence   of  the   opposition   of  some   of 
the   parishioners.      As  time    went    on    he   was    thankful   that 
the  restoration  had  been  postponed,  because,  as  he  often  said, 
the   work  would   not  have  been   so   satisfactorily   done  as  it 
ultimately  was.     In  looking  back  to  these  days,  what  strikes 
me    perhaps    more    than   anything   else,   is   the  patience   with 
which   the   Vicar  waited,    and   the   patient  way   in  which   he 
dealt,  not  only  with  the  people  generally,  but  with  his  opponents 
in   particular.      Never   keeping  back   the   truth,  letting  every 
one  know  what  he  believed,  in  matters  which  he  considered 
non-essentials    it    is    wonderful    how    forbearing    he    was,    in 
consideration   for   the    feelings    and   prejudices   of  the  people, 
and  how  gentle  he  was  in  word  and  deed.     His  curates  were 
often   impatient,    and   would   have   hurried   things  on,  but  we 
had  always  before  our  eyes  his  example,  the  example  of  one 
who  would  "quietly  wait."     And  he  had  his  reward.      When 
the    time   came   for   the   re-opening   of  the   church   by  Bishop 
Wilberforce,  the  whole  parish,  with  only  one  or  two  exceptions, 
rejoiced  with  him  in  the  completion  of  a  great  work.     I  well 


94  THE   PARISH  1857 

remember  the  enthusiasm  with  which  the  parish  generally 
provided  at  their  own  cost  the  great  luncheon  which  followed 
the  re-opening  services.  He  was  friendly  with  the  noncon- 
formists of  the  town,  and,  as  time  went  on,  I  do  not  suppose 
that  a  more  united  and  friendly  parish  could  be  found  through- 
out the  country.  And  this  without  the  slightest  compromise 
of  principle,  but  from  kindness  of  heart,  and  that  earnestness 
of  purpose  which  always,  sooner  or  later,  wins  its  way. 

In  his  dealings  with  his  curates  he  was  a  model  Vicar. 
Very  plain  spoken,  and  somewhat  stern  at  times  when  things 
were  done  which  he  did  not  like,  and  still  more  so  when 
things  were  left  undone  which  ought  to  have  been  done,  it 
was  impossible  not  to  recognize  the  loving  heart  which  lay 
beneath.  However  hard  we  worked,  we  always  had  before 
us  the  example  of  one  who  worked  a  great  deal  harder.  His 
work  was  essentially  the  work  of  common  sense,  and  he  hated 
fads.  I  know  that  I  was  at  times  a  trial  to  him,  but  when  I 
fancied  myself  put  upon,  and  perhaps  grumbled  a  little  bit, 
the  way  in  which  the  Vicar  always  put  himself  in  the  wrong 
and  humbled  himself  before  me  sent  me  away  utterly  ashamed 
of  myself  and  humiliated  to  the  dust.  Wantage  was  essentially 
a  place  of  work,  and  in  the  same  way  as  Bishop  Wilberforce 
raised  the  whole  tone  of  Episcopal  work,  so  did  Butler  raise 
the  tone  of  the  work  of  the  parochial  clergy.  And  the  spirit 
of  work  learned  at  Wantage  was  never,  I  believe,  lost  by  the 
Wantage  curates  when  they  went  to  parishes  of  their  own. 
Wantage  did  for  the  south  of  England  what  Leeds  did  for 
the  north. 

The  impressions  of  Canon  Carter  of  Clewer,  one 
of  William  Butler's  few  surviving  contemporaries, 
who  was  much  associated  with  him  in  diocesan 
work  in  the  early  years  of  Bishop  Wilberforce's 
administration,  may  fitly  be  inserted  here. 

I  will  gladly  endeavour  to  give  the  impressions  made  on  me 
by  your  dear  father,  and  by  the  great  part  he  played  in  the 
Church's  life  and  work.  We  were  contemporaries  in  the  Oxford 
Diocese  as  it  was  being  formed  into  a  new  Diocese  by  Bishop 


1850  CANON    CARTER'S   RECOLLECTIONS  95 

Wilberforce,  your  father  commencing  his  work  at  Wantage  in 
1846,  myself  at  Clewer  in  1844.  We  were,  locally,  rather  far 
apart,  and  alike  constantly  occupied,  and  only  touched  one 
another  on  certain  occasions,  though  having  common  aims  and 
common  objects  at  heart.  It  was  part  of  Bishop  Wilberforce's 
plan  in  moulding  the  Diocese  into  one  whole,  to  gather  together  in 
his  hospitable  home  at  Cuddesdon  from  time  to  time  those  who 
worked  under  him.  Those  gatherings  were  of  the  happiest  kind ; 
and  there,  together  with  the  Bishop,  we  planned  the  Oxford 
Lent  Sermons,  and  the  missions  which  the  Bishop  held  at 
different  centres  in  the  Diocese, — missions,  not,  as  now,  organized 
scientifically,  so  to  say,  under  two  or  three  priest-missioners, 
but  under  himself,  aided  by  several  of  the  clergy.  At 
Cuddesdon  and  in  these  missions  was  my  chief  opportunity 
of  intercourse  with  your  father. 

But  this  is  to  anticipate.  My  first  acquaintance  with  him 
was  after  the  Gorham  judgement,  when,  together  with  two 
earnest  sympathizers,  now  with  him  at  rest  in  God,  Milman, 
afterwards  Bishop  of  Calcutta,  and  Robert  Gordon,  then  Rector 
of  Avington,  we  joined  in  pressing  forward  the  protest  made 
under  Archdeacon  Berens  in  his  Synod.  By  that  time  your 
father  had  established  his  fame  as  a  parish  priest.  It  was 
owing  to  his  having  thus  shown  his  power  in  a  true  Church 
line  of  work,  that  Manning,  then  Archdeacon,  having  trained 
four  sisters  to  be  the  nucleus  of  a  religious  Community,  fixed 
on  Wantage  as  their  home.  This,  in  its  after  consequences, 
served  to  bring  out  great  points  of  high  value  in  your  father's 
character.  Manning's  secession  from  the  Church  of  England 
broke  up  this  little  band  of  Religious,  the  Sister-Superior  and 
one  of  the  other  three  following  him  to  Rome.  I  remember 
well  the  anxiety  of  the  crisis,  and  the  agitating  question 
of  the  possibility  of  reconstituting  the  work,  and  perpetuating 
it  through  those  who  remained  faithful  to  their  dedication. 
One  cannot  now  adequately  conceive  the  pressing  nature  of 
such  an  anxiety  at  a  time  when  all  around  was  filled  with 
distrust,  and  Sisterhoods  among  us  were  but  in  their  infancy. 
We  all  feared  that  there  could  be  little  hope  of  pursuing 
what  had  been  so  earnestly  begun.  But  then  your  father's 
endurance  and  trust,  his  moral  energy  and  courage  and  practical 
wisdom,  were  seen;  and  one  rejoiced  with  him  in  being  able 


96  THE   PARISH  1851 

to  re-establish  the  Community  out  of  the  apparent  wreck,  so 
as  to  become,  under  his  care,  so  prosperous  and  valuable  a 
Society  as  it  has  long  been  growing  with  its  widely  extended 
works.  It  was  a  crowning  instance  of  what  seems  to  have 
been  one  of  your  father's  prominent  characteristics,  that  what 
he  set  his  mind  to  accomplish  he  could  not  fail  to  carry  through. 

Our  Church  life  at  that  period,  and  for  many  years  afterwards, 
was  a  scene  of  constant  progress  among  those  who  were  bent 
on  sustaining  what  had  been  gained,  or  reviving  what  had 
been  lost  and  was  still  wanting.  I  suppose  it  was  the  variety 
of  mind,  each  with  its  own  plans  and  prepossessions,  acting  in 
different  ways  and  under  different  circumstances,  yet  with 
common  desires  at  heart,  to  which  is  due,  under  God's  mercy,  the 
amount  of  success  which  has  attended  the  manifold  efforts  of 
past  years.  Much  depended  on  the  view  taken  of  what  was 
due  to  authority — a  true  note  of  Catholic  life — much  on 
individual  tendencies,  and  partly  also  on  local  circumstances,  the 
issue  being,  whether  or  no  to  join  societies  then  forming  and  work 
in  common  with  others,  or  to  do  one's  best  alone  with  one's  own 
separate  opportunities.  Your  father's  strong  personality  and 
trust  in  his  power  and  energies,  with  a  great  unwillingness  to 
be  hampered  by  other  minds  or  to  be  dependent  on  other  agencies, 
led  him  to  take  the  latter  course.  There  was  a  further  influence 
evidently  telling  upon  him  in  the  same  direction.  He  seems 
to  have  always  kept  true  to  what  are  known  as  Tractarian 
principles,  under  which  he  had  grown  up,  and  a  sense  of  what 
is  due  to  authority  was  an  important  element  among  the 
lessons  taught  us  by  the  great  leaders  of  that  movement.  Your 
father,  whose  mind  was  always  resting  on  great  principles,  was 
influenced  by  this  feeling  far  more  than  many  among  us.  This 
evidently  governed  his  conduct  in  the  course  of  the  struggles 
which  went  on  during  his  time  year  after  year. 

This  sense  of  authority,  as  a  habit  of  mind,  and  a  sufficient 
law  of  life,  appeared  constantly  in  matters  of  greater  or  less 
importance.  He  was  once  asked  to  attend  a  temperance 
meeting  and  to  speak.  The  tenor  of  his  words  was,  "What 
can  one  need  more  than  what  the  Church  Catechism  teaches 
as  to  temperance  and  soberness  ?"  The  promoters  of  the  cause 
who  desired  to  press  total  abstinence  as  the  means  of  furthering 
temperance  said  he  had  spoilt  the  meeting.  He  could  only 


i855  CORRESPONDENCE  97 

recognise  the  one  straight  course,  sufficiently,  as  he  thought,  laid 
down  for  us  all. 

I  was  at  Wantage  in  early  days  at  some  of  the  great  gatherings 
held  in  order  to  celebrate  your  father's  parochial  achievements. 
I  often  since  heard  details  of  his  work  which  have  been  full  of 
lessons  to  others.  It  was,  as  we  supposed,  Mr.  Gladstone's 
appreciation  of  his  faithfulness,  his  thoroughness,  his  powerful 
energy  in  the  Church's  work,  which  led  to  his  being  raised 
to  other  spheres  and  higher  dignities.  I  have  of  late  years 
been  able  only  to  follow  him  in  thought  with  thankfulness  for 
what  he  has  been  enabled  to  do  in  his  ceaseless  activities.  We 
have  rarely  met,  each  being  very  fully  occupied  in  our  separate 
ways.  I  remember  your  father  as  one  of  my  earliest  friends 
and  fellow-workers  during  an  eventful  period,  and  the  remem- 
brance of  what  he  was  and  what  he  has  done  remains  as  the 
witness  of  the  greatness  of  his  aims,  and  of  the  truth  and 
reality  which  have  always  marked  his  course,  and  must  for  ever 
embalm  his  memory. 

Most  of  the  correspondence  of  this  period  relates 
to  '  burning  questions,'  the  ashes  of  which  are  still 
warm.  The  letters  here  given  are  on  more  general 

subjects. 

W.  J.  B.  TO  HIS  SISTER. 

WANTAGE  VICARAGE,  Feb.  14,  1855. 

.  .  .  How  strange  it  is  to  find  life  gradually  ebbing  away, 
and  yet  to  feel  no  older,  weaker,  or  less  full  of  interests,  than 
when  some  seventeen  years  ago,  our  dear  F.  and  you  and  I  used 
to  interchange  our  '  cracks '  between  Southgate  and  Trinity.  Of 
course  I  don't  mean  that  plenty  of  events  have  not  occurred  to 
alter  the  channel  of  thoughts  and  interests,  but  that  the  power  of 
being  interested  and  engrossed  in  these  old  and  new  objects 
exists  with  the  same  force  as  ever,  and  makes  it  still  as  difficult 
as  ever  to  realise  that  death  is  stalking  after  us,  and  gaining  daily 
upon  our  footsteps.  And  still  it  seems  as  hard  as  ever  not  to 
struggle  after  a  sense  of  present  security  from  future  possibilities 
and  contingencies,  and  not  to  long  after  that  state  of  worldly 


98  THE    PARISH  1857 

prosperity  which  enables  its  possessor  to  say  to  his  soul,  "  Soul, 
thou  hast  much  goods  laid  up  for  many  days."  I  suppose 
nothing  but  a  real  effort  to  feel  and  believe  in  that  exactly 
counter  command  of  our  Lord,  "Sufficient  for  the  day,"  etc.,  can 
bring  us  out  of  that  most  dangerous  error,  which  will  go  along 
with  unabated  strength  and  vigour  of  body  and  mind.  The 
peculiarity  of  the  poor  worn  out  Crimean  soldiers  is  that  they 
don't  care  to  move,  to  eat,  or  to  live,  but  when  they  are  once 
in  the  hospital,  they  only  ask  for  present  rest.  .  .  . 


W.  J.  B.  TO  HIS  SISTER. 

WANTAGE  VICARAGE,  Feb.  13,  1857. 

.  .  .  Do  you  know  that  in  the  old  Kalendar  St.  Sckolastica, 
sister  of  the  great  St.  Benedict,  stands  as  the  patron  of 
Feb.  10  ?  The  name  seems  well  adapted  to  my  especial  line 
of  work. 

As  you  say,  birthdays  have  a  different  meaning  as  one 
passes  on  in  life  from  infancy  to  youth,  from  youth  to  mid- 
age,  from  mid-age — whither  ?  And  it  seems  very  awful  to  be 
touching  on  shores  which  once  appeared  so  very,  very  distant, 
and  to  feel  that  each  little  promontory  round  which  the  ship 
of  one's  life  has  past  has  its  own  tale  to  tell  of  omissions 
and  commissions,  forgetfulness  of  the  guiding  Presence,  sloth- 
fulness  and  selfishness.  Each  seems  markt,  as  it  were,  by 
some  gipsy  camp-fire,  black  yet  still  smoking  up  to  heaven, 
where  one  has  listlessly  spent  that  precious  awful  gift  of  time 
and  which  now  bears  its  solemn  witness.  My  heart  often 
sinks  within  me  when  I  think  of  thirty-nine  years  past  and 
gone  with  their  summer  and  winter,  seed  time  and  harvest, 
and  so  little  laid  up  to  God.  Only  there  is  the  trust  that 
that  precious  Blood  cleanseth  from  all  sin,  and  that  He  Who 
knows  our  weakness  will  accept  the  short  and  imperfect 
snatches  of  prayer  which  one  is  able  to  utter. 

Now  I  have  said  a  great  deal  about  myself,  and  very  little 
about  you.  It  is  and  has  ever  been  my  special  blessing  to 
have  known  and  loved  my  sisters.  I  always  think  that  sister's 
love  is  the  mainstay,  after  mother's  love,  to  English  lads  at 
school  and  college.  I  am  sure  that  I  found  it  so.  ... 


1857  A  WEDDING   FEAST  99 

W.  J.  B.  TO  HIS  WIFE. 

WANTAGE  VICARAGE,  1857. 

Yesterday  was  a  most  busy  day.  Before  twelve  I  had  taken 
part  in  a  celebration  of  H.  C.,  two  Churchings  (for  the  tire- 
some folk  would  come  in  separately),  one  Baptism,  and  the 

wedding   of  .     This   quite   independently   of  P.T.    classes 

and  other  work.    .     .     .    implored  me  to  dine  with  them 

and  I  consented. 

Scene  I.  A  room  upstairs.  Table  covered  with  tra/nuts 
and  smaluuts,  oranges,  figs,  and  a  huge  bridecake,  raisin,  ginger, 

orange,  and   currant   wine.     Enter  and   wife,  ,  Mr. 

,  a  friend  with  huge  Crimean  beard,  a  married  young  lady 

intimate  with  bride,  and  the  three  Miss  ,  and  wife. 

The  bride's  small  brother  and  big  mother.  Vicar.  Wine  and 
cake  as  Vorschmack  Conversation  flagging  but  facetious, 
"little  and  good."  Ladies  rustling  in  silk.  Gentlemen  in 
white  waistcoats  and  do.  gloves. 

Scene  II.  The  small  room  below  with  a  large  table  on 
which  stand  beef,  mutton,  turkey,  ham,  vegetables  a  discretion, 
to  be  removed  for  P.  puddings,  mince  pies,  rhubarb,  black- 
currant, gooseberry,  "Damascene,"  raspberry,  tarts  and,  lastly, 

cheese.      The    former    company    enter    (Mrs.    and    who 

have  very  red  faces  having  been  hard  at  work  till  the  present 

moment).     Mrs.  retains  a  white   apron   over   her  bridal 

costume  as  the  insignia  of  her  late  office  as  cook.  Every  one 
does  justice,  ample  justice,  to  viands,  bride,  next  to  whom  I 
sit,  has  two  vigorous  goes  of  turkey  and  ham.  I  squeeze  in 
a  few  jokes  of  a  mild  kind,  but  conversation  is  decidedly 
scanty.  Crimean  hero  is  apparently  connected  with  the  Stock 
Exchange,  for  some  allusion  to  the  Bank  makes  him  for  the 
first  and  only  time  open  his  mouth  to  speak.  After  cheese 
and  grace  we  adjourn  to 

Scene  III.  Room  as  in  Scene  I.    Company  the  same  save 

and  Crimean,  who  stay  below  to  smoke  a  pipe  of  hospitality 

and  peace.     Mrs.  joins  the  party  upstairs  and  from  time 

to  time  utters  some  highly  edifying  remarks,  pious  and 
suggestive.  A  few  more  jokes,  but  conversation  still  very 
slight.  All  however  seem  very  happy,  and  at  4.30  I  summon 
and  Crimean  from  their  tobacco,  propose  's  health 


ioo  THE   PARISH  1858 

and   his   bride's,    and    depart   like    a    rocket   in    a    shower    of 
friendly  words.  .  .  . 

In  the  early  part  of  1854,  the  Rev.  Henry 
Parry  Liddon  came  to  be  curate  at  Wantage.  His 
powers  of  preaching  were  at  once  recognised  and 
appreciated  by  Mrs.  Butler,  a  keen  critic.  In  after 
years,  her  husband  was  fond  of  quoting  her  remark 
on  hearing  his  first  sermon:  "That  young  man 
preaches  better  than  the  Archdeacon  "  (Manning). 

This  was  the  beginning  of  a  warm  and  lasting 
friendship — one  that  was  only  severed  by  death— 
between  the  Vicar  and  Liddon.  The  latter  was 
at  Wantage  only  about  a  year,  and  then  went 
as  Vice-Principal  to  the  newly-founded  Cuddesdon 
College.  From  that  time  dates  a  close  and  intimate 
correspondence  which  only  ended  at  the  death  of 
Dr.  Liddon  in  1890. 

W.  J.  B.  TO  REV.  H.  P.  LIDDON. 

WANTAGE  VICARAGE,  Dec.  11,  1858. 

.  .  .  We  have  had  two  very  happy  days.  The  little  Charlton 
school  was  opened  by  a  service  therein,  followed  by  a  service 
in  church,  and  a  great  supper  to  farmers,  clergy,  and  labourers, 
provided  by  the  farmers.  Yesterday  we  had  our  second  Con- 
firmation of  this  year,  and  a  Confirmation  at  the  Home. 
Mackonochie  was  with  us  on  Thursday;  remarkably  well  and 
cheery,  and  apparently  prudent  and  anxious  to  work  simply 
for  souls. 

W.  J.  B.  TO  KEV.  H.  P.  LIDDON. 

RED  HILL,  Aug.  12,  1861. 

I  have  read  your  sermon  carefully,  and  though  I  think  the 
first  part  too  elaborate  and  reasoned  for  the  reading  of  most 
people,  yet  for  the  sake  of  the  second  I  should  be  very  sorry 


i86i  LETTERS   TO   REV.    H.   P.   LIDDON  101 

were  it  not  printed.  I  have  therefore  sent  it  to  Parker, 
requesting  him  to  forward  it  to  St.  Edmund  Hall.  I  do  not 
know  your  address,  though  that  seems  safest.  I  have  not 
received  the  Episcopal  discourse — and  now  that  he  is  fairly 
launched  on  his  travels,  with  his  six  Cathedrals  to  preach  in, 
I  cannot  imagine  when  it  will  come  tojhand.  We  left  Wantage 
on  Thursday,  after  getting  through  various  parochial  and 
Diocesan  Board  engagements,  and  to-morrow  we  hope  to  cross 
the  Channel.  May  the  S.W.  wind  subside  a  little !  .  .  .  I  was 
much  interested  on  Saturday  in  the  consecration  of  Woodyer's 
new  church,  built  by  his  exertions  and  mainly  at  his  expense. 
He  has  bought  (some  years  since)  a  very  pretty  little  estate, 
called  Graffham,  near  Guildford — and  since  his  wife's  death, 
his  great  desire  has  been  to  build  a  church  to  her  memory. 
He  has  spared  no  expense  nor  effort  of  mind  upon  it,  and 
the  whole  effect  is  most  religious  and  touching;  the  glass  is 
Hardman's,  and  it  makes  me  more  confident  even  than  before 
of  his  enormous  superiority  to  any  of  his  fellows.  ...  I  am 

staying  here  with  my  old  school-fellow  and  college  friend . 

It  is  most  delightful  to  be  in  such  a  house.  He  is  a  lawyer, 
and  married  early  to  the  sister  of  another  old  school-fellow. 
They  are  both  thoroughly  right-minded]  and  religious  (of  the 
right  sort).  He  has  built  himself  this  house,  and  in  it  a 
little  oratory  for  family  prayer  purposes.  Close  to  him  is 

his   brother-in-law,   Mr. ,   another    layman,   of  exactly   the 

same  mind.  His  boys  are  at  Bradfield.  Depend  upon  it, 
nothing  ever  came  near  the  '  Oxford  Movement '  for  influencing 
and  turning  heavenwards  the  minds  of  this  class  of  men.  Alas, 
alas !  the  new  lights,  with  their  religion  of  doubt  and  scepticism, 
little  know  what  they  throw  away.  Such  households  as 

this  make   one   feel   it  bitterly.     And   yet   men   like are 

what  they  are  because  of  their  generation.  How  wonderful 
it  seems.  We  enjoyed  your  visit  very  much.  It  did  us  all 
good. 

W.  J.  B.  TO  REV.  H.  P.  LIDDON. 

CALDICOT  HOUSE,  WATFOKD, 
Sept.  10,  1861. 

You  will  see  from  this  that  we  are  at  home  again,  after  some- 
thing more  than  three  weeks  of  touring.     We  went  the  old  route 


102  THE   PARISH  1861 

of  Folkestone  and  Boulogne  to  Paris.  Thence  through  Burgundy 
to  Lyons,  stopping  at  Sens  and  Dijon — spent  a  couple  of  days 
in  intense  heat  at  Lyons — thence  down  the  Rhone  to  Valence — 
and  then  in  various  voitures  to  Aubenas  in  Ardeche — hunting  up 
volcanoes  and  churches,  and  sleeping  in  little  village  inns.  Le 
Puy  in  Velay,  a  most  wonderful  city  of  the  tenth  century  ;  Cler- 
mont  (it  seerns  still  to  echo  with  Diex  le  volt),  from  both  of 
which  we  made  excursions ;  and  so  home  by  Bourges,  Orleans, 
and  Amiens — the  last  for  the  sake  of  the  clean  and  sweet  hotel, 
which  saves  one  the  stench  and  expense  of  sleeping  in  Paris. 
Eiddell l  is  a  charming  '  compagnon  de  voyage,'  most  gentle, 
unselfish,  bright,  and  accomplisht — vigorous,  too,  and  up  to  any 
amount  of  bodily  exercise,  and  thoroughly  right  minded  and 
sympathetic  in  all  greater  things.  The  tremendous  heat  (thermo- 
meter at  96°  Fahr.  in  the  shade  on  a  north  wall  one  day)  was 
the  only  drawback.  We  had  not  a  drop  of  rain  the  whole  time. 
I  suppose  that  the  south  of  France  is  one  of  the  hottest  places 
in  the  world,  and  this  year  it  was  agreed  by  all  that  the  heat  was 
more  than  the  oldest  inhabitant  could  remember.  We  have 
come  back  very  geologically  inclined,  and  one  picks  up  the  stones 
and  flint  of  the  London  clay,  looking  instinctively  for  lava  and 
basalt.  The  general  effect  of  Auvergne,  looking  down  upon  it 
from  the  Puy  de  Dome,  or  the  Pic  de  Sancy,  at  Mont  Dore  les 
Bains,  is  as  if  a  collection  of  dust  holes  and  cinder  bins  had  been 
poured  out  upon  it  in  little  heaps.  The  whole  soil  is  cinereous, 
pustulated  with  volcanoes,  from  which  immense  masses  of  lava 
and  basalt  have  been  belched  forth  on  the  original  granite — 
tilling  up  valleys,  altering  the  course  of  rivers  and  damming 
them  up  into  lakes,  leaving  here  and  there  huge  waves,  where 
the  lava  has  cooled  quickly,  just  like  breakers  foaming  upon  the 
shore.  In  course  of  time  the  water  and  the  atmospheric  in- 
fluences acting  on  the  weaker  parts  have  worn  them  down  and 
made  deep  valleys,  very  fertile  and  lovely,  mostly  covered  with 
huge  chestnuts,  and  permeated  with  springs  of  the  most  delicious 
water — very  often  highly  chalybeate  and  effervescent — flowing 
right  under  the  volcanic  strata.  The  sides  of  the  rivers  and 
gorges  are  fluted  as  it  were  with  regular  pillars  or  prisms  of 
basalt  and,  if  the  top  soil  be  worn  away,  you  see  them  in  as 
regular  a  pavement  as  Minton's  tiles  would  make — octagonal  or 
.  James  Eiddell,  Fellow  of  Balliol. 


1861  A   HOLIDAY   IN   FRANCE  103 

some  other  mathematical  form.  Then  sometimes,  as  at  Le  Puy, 
crags  of  basalt  or  lava  having  a  little  more  iron  in  them  than  the 
masses  round,  have  resisted  the  forces-  round  them,  and  stand  up 
in  the  strangest  way  like  huge  craggy  teeth  in  the  middle  of  the 
valleys,  covered  with  churches  (of  course  S.  Michel)  or  castles. 

Well,  you  will  be  tired  with  geology,  and  I  am  sorry  to  say, 
I  have  little  else.  The  churches  of  Auvergne  are  very  striking, 
mostly  of  the  ninth,  tenth,  and  eleventh  centuries ;  Byzantine 
in  structure  and  detail,  with  a  series  of  domes,  or  rather  quasi- 
domes,  in  lieu  of  internal  vaulting.  From  what  little  I  saw, 
I  should  imagine  that  the  Auvergne  folk  are  not  very  strong, 
like  the  Breton,  in  the  matter  of  religion.  On  the  weekdays 
one  could  run  over  the  churches  before  twelve,  which  rarely 
happens  elsewhere,  on  account  of  the  continual  Masses,  which 
one  cannot  disturb.  We  heard  a  sermon  at  Lyons,  for  men 
only,  to  which  we  were  admitted  by  ticket.  It  was  in  the 
cathedral,  and  about  500  were  present.  The  preacher  was 
very  eloquent  and  earnest.  He  said  that  he  should  break 
through  his  usual  course,  because  of  the  Octave  of  the  Assump- 
tion, and  took  for  his  theme  the  "culte"  of  Mary.  Nothing 
could  be  more  illogical  than  the  discourse ;  it  was  full  of  asser- 
tions and  even  misquotations  from  Scripture,  yet  telling — to 
the  folk  addressed;  neither  Riddell  nor  I  felt  at  all  more  in- 
clined to  accept  the  views  which  the  preacher  held.  It  is 
very  sad  to  see  how  the  worship  of  Mary  is  obscuring  that 
of  the  One  Mediator.  By  the  way,  Ars  is  not  far  from  Lyons, 
and  I  picked  up  some  histories  of  that  good  curffs  life  and 
death.  They  are  most  interesting,  and  if  only  I  had  the  pen 
of  a  ready  writer  I  would  certainly  cook  up  something  for  the 
'  Ecclesiastic '  which  alone  would  enter  into  the  thing  heartily. 
It  is  very  instructive  to  our  parochial  clergy  to  have  such 
things  brought  before  them.  Men  little  know  what  earnest 
hearts  and  holy  lives  can  do.  It  seems  that  to  the  very  last 
he  was  full  of  apprehension  for  the  future.  "  Dreadful  thought," 
he  said,  "to  appear  before  the  judgement  seat  of  God  with 
my  poor  life  of  a  cw6." 

I  hope  to  return  on  Saturday  to  work.  There  is  a  good 
deal  to  think  about,  when  I  do  begin  to  take  things  in 
hand.  .  .  .  Then  there  is  all  the  Home  and  St.  Michael's, 
with  their  many  branches  of  difficulty,  and  finally  the  P.  Council 


104  THE   PARISH  1862 

under  Lowe  have  entirely  reorganised  the  whole  system 
of  grants,  making  it  very  difficult  to  see  our  way,  in 
the  matter  of  £  s.  d.,  to  keep  the  schools  going.  I  have 
glanced  over  their  Code,  and  at  first  sight  I  am  inclined 
to  think  that  all  will  be  right  in  the  end.  You  know  that 
I  am  going  out  as  a  deputation  for  S.  P.  G.  in  Cornwall  from 
Oct.  6-20. 

I  have  received  the  Bishop's  MS.  sermon,  and  the  proof 
of  yours.  .  .  .  The  expression,  "incarnate  in  language,"  is, 
I  think,  hardly  accurate,  considering  the  exact  meaning  of 
"incarnate."  Would  it  not  be  well  to  head  the  pages  with 
the  subject — as  Newman's  are ;  you  know  what  I  mean.  Those 
little  things  help  the  reader  very  much. 

Max  Miiller's  lectures  are  in  this  house.  I  shall  hope  to 
read  them  if  I  can  get  an  hour  or  two  amidst  the  chatter 
and  interests  of  family  re-union. 


W.  J.  B.  TO  REV.  H.  P.  LIDDON. 

WANTAGE  VICARAGE,  July  16,  1862. 

.  .  .  Did  you  read  the  Times  article  on  the  Congress.  It 
handled  it  according  to  its  unbelieving  cynical  wont,  but  I 
must  own  that — bating  the  sarcasms,  etc. — I  incline  to  agree 
with  its  tenor.  I  was  startled  to  find  that  Church  matters 
were  to  be  dealt  with  like  geological,  social  science,  etc.,  by 
papers  and  sections,  and  I  own  to  an  increasing  feeling  of 
discomfort  at  the  terrible  physical  activity  of  our  brethren. 
They  really  remind  me  of  the  description  of  the  adversary  in 
the  Book  of  Job — "going  to  and  fro  in  the  earth,"  etc.  I 
firmly  believe  that  parishes  are  suffering  greatly  from  the 
continual  absence  and  the  desultory  habits  of  the  clergy.  Men 
find  out  that  it  is  much  better  fun  to  meet  their  friends 
and  talk  at  these  gatherings  than  "to  tend  the  homely, 
slighted  Shepherd's  trade"  of  visiting  cottages  and  working  at 
schools.  I  had  intended  nevertheless  to  enter  an  appearance ! 

but  a  letter  from  made  me  so  anxious  about  that 

instead  of  turning  off  at  Didcot  to  Oxford,  I  took  the  express 
train  up  to  London.  .  .  .  On  Tuesday  is  our  Commemora- 
tion at  St.  Mary's  Home.  You  will  think  of  us  as  we  of  you. 


1862  THE    QUESTION    OF   VOWS  105 

The  Warden  of  All  Souls'  will  preach.  We  purpose  an  early 
Celebration  at  the  Home,  and  11  o'clock  matins  with  sermon 
and  second  Celebration  in  church.  Luncheon  at  the  Home. 
Evensong  at  the  Home  at  4.  All  goes  on  there  very  happily, 
and  a  few  more  Sisters  slowly  join  us.  ...  I  agree  with 
your  argument  on  the  subject  of  vows,  in  the  main.  But,  of 
course,  admitting  that  the  principle  of  vows  is  accepted  by  the 
Church  by  the  instances  of  ordination  and  marriage,  it  is 
quite  another  question  whether  it  is  advisable  to  appljr  it  to 
Sisterhoods.  We  must  not,  I  think,  press  the  question  at 
present.  Once  let  the  institution  grow  strong  and  important, 
and  it  may  dictate  its  own  terms.  I  was  not  much  pleased 
to  find  that  Sisterhoods  were  one  of  the  subjects  for  the  Congress 
to  discuss.  (The  word  Deaconess  seems  to  me  detestable,  and 
the  natural  correlative  is  Priestess.  There  is  an  animus  in  the 
nse  of  it.)  There  are  always  a  host  of  folk  ready  to  rush  in 
and  make  talk-capital  of  what  others  have  been  doing,  and  I 
dreaded,  not  as  it  seems  without  some  justice,  what  such 
folk  would  say.  0  what  a  wonderful  book  is  the  book  of 
Proverbs — and  how  like  men  are  one  to  another  everywhere 
and  always.  .  .  . 

REV.  H.  P.  LIDDON  TO  W.  J.  B. 

THE  PRINCIPAL'S,  ST.  ED.  H.,  OXFORD, 
Dec.  6,  1862. 

.  .  .  Cartwright  tells  me  that  the  question  of  your 
election  as  Coadjutor  Bishop  with  the  right  of  succession  is 
very  openly  discussed  in  Toronto.  Of  course  I  did  not  tell 
him  that  I  had  heard  anything  of  the  matter.  He  says 
that  there  has  been  a  "caucus"  or  informal  meeting  to  deal 
with  the  subject,  and  that  the  only  difficulty  is  the  want  of 
a  fund  which  is  to  be  raised.  It  appears  that  the  present 
Bishop  of  Toronto  is  paid  by  the  Home  Government,  but  that 
his  successors  must  throw  themselves  upon  the  local  Church. 
But  he  (C.)  anticipates  no  difficulty  on  this  score.  There  is 
much  speculation,  he  adds,  as  to  whether  or  no  you  are  likely 
to  accept  the  post.  Probably  all  this  or  more  is  no  news  to 
you — or  you  have  heard  something  from  Eiddell.  But  Badgeley, 
a  Queen's  man  from  Canada,  tells  me  the  same  story.  .  .  . 


106  THE   PARISH  1864 

W.  J.  B.  TO  KEY.  H.  P.  LIDDON. 

WANTAGE  VICARAGE,  Dec.  19,  1864. 

Do  not  think  me  a  pest.  I  cannot  help  pressing  once  more 
the  extreme  importance,  as  it  seems  to  me,  of  a  counter-move 
to  the  Destructives.  It  is  quite  true  that  the  religious  party 
may  not  be  able  to  agree  upon  a  scheme,  but  they  are  not, 
as  I  think,  called  upon  at  present  to  do  this.  What  is  required 
is  to  show  a  good  face  to  the  world,  to  make  it  understood 
that  there  is  at  least  a  fair  number  of  not  unknown  names 
who  think  very  differently  from  the  first  memorialists.  Surely 
this  could  be  done. 

I  have  great  faith  in  protests.  Their  value  comes  out  wonder- 
fully in  after  times.  The  Sicilian  Vespers  came  of  a  protest. 
It  is  like  rowing  a  losing  race.  Chances  occur  when  they 
are  least  looked  for.  And  after  all  they  are  acts  of  honesty. 
It  is  something  to  say  liberavi  animam  meam.  I  am  going 
to  write  to  Luard  to  this  effect.  The  Times,  somehow,  evidently 
does  not  go  heartily  with  the  Destructives,  and  I  cannot  help 
thinking  that  they  would  be  glad  of  a  counter-demonstration. 
Even  Gladstone  hinted  that  it  would  be  well  for  the  memorialists 
to  neutralise  opposition  by  reasonable  compromise.  But  if 
there  is  no  opposition,  they  will  have  it  all  their  own  way. 
I  think  that  I  would  rather  have  a  compulsory  than  a  permissive 
bill.  Do  you  not  think  that  the  increase  of  personal  holiness 
is  some  set  off  against  other  and  adverse  things  1  .  .  . 

At  this  point  it  may  not  be  out  of  place  to  give 
a  brief  resum$  of  the  Vicar's  methods  of  parish 
work,  principally  related  by  himself  in  the  "  Parish 
Journals  "  and  elsewhere. 

His  custom  of  working  out  details  upon  a 
broad  foundation  of  principle  may  be  fitly  illus- 
trated from  the  records  of  his  parochial  work 
at  Wantage,  kept  with  scrupulous  minuteness  in 
what  he  called  "  the  White  Books,"  as  they  were 
bound  in  parchment.  This  parish  diary  begins  on 


1847  PARISH   RECORDS  107 

August  4,  1847,  and  is  preceded  by  details  of  the 
census  of  1821  in  Wantage,  by  a  list  of  "  un- 
baptized  persons  in  the  parish  of  Wantage  being 
more  than  three  months  old,"  and  of  persons  living 
in  flagrant  sin ;  and  a  description  of  the  "  objects " 
of  the  journal  as  "  facts  concerning  the  spiritual 
and  bodily  welfare  of  the  parishioners  of  Wantage, 
observations  on  the  cottages,  wages,  rents,  marks 
of  progression,  marks  of  retrogression,  and  the 
like."  Notes  on  the  services  occur  frequently ; 
and  after  a  few  years  another  series  of  books  was 
opened,  with  entries  of  every  sermon  preached  in 
the  parish,  with  the  text  and  the  subject,  each 
entry  being  made  by  the  preacher. 

As  early  as  January,  1848,  we  find  that  the 
"  communicant  classes,"  on  which  the  Vicar  laid 
such  stress  all  through  his  parochial  life,  were  already 
organised.  "Wednesday — Young  women  to  prepare 
for  H.  C.  ;  Thursday — Young  men,  and  married 
women  ;  Friday — Young  women ;  Evening  service  ; 
Married  men."  From  that  time  forward,  till  he 
left  Wantage,  he  never  omitted  to  take  these  classes 
himself,  except  in  the  rare  case  of  incapacitating 
illness,  and  once  a  year  when  he  was  taking  a 
holiday.  The  numbers  attending  the  classes  grew 
steadily,  as  the  newly  confirmed  were  drafted  into 
them,  till,  at  the  close  of  his  ministry  at  Wantage, 
he  could  write  (in  an  article  in  the  Literary  Church- 
man, afterwards  reprinted  as  a  small  pamphlet) : 

I  have  found  it  necessary  in  a  country  town  to  form  no 
less  than  twelve  classes — which  are  invariably  in  the  week 


io8  THE   PARISH  1847- 

which  precedes  the  first  Sunday  of  every  month,  and  before 
the  greater  festivals.  These  classes  vary  greatly  in  size.  The 
smallest  has  eight  names  only,  the  largest  forty-five.  On  the 
whole  the  numbers,  which  at  first  were  under  thirty,  have  now 
passed  three  hundred.  A  careful  list  is  kept  of  absentees,  who 
are  always  specially  visited  and  invited  not  to  pass  over  the 
next  time.  A  few,  as  might  be  expected,  slip  through  as  years 
flow  on,  sometimes  from  old  age,  or  other  reasonable  causes ; 
sometimes  from  idleness ;  but  the  leakage  is  more  than  made  up 
for  by  those  whom  each  Confirmation  and  close  and  continuous 
parish  sifting  adds. 

He  continues  with  "  a  few  words  of  caution," 
which  describe,  in  fact,  his  own  practice  for  thirty 
years. 

(1)  On  no  account  should  these  classes  be  held  in  school-rooms, 
parish-rooms,  or  aisles  of  the  church,  but  in  the  parsonage  itself. 
It  is  of  all  importance  to  give  them  a  friendly  aspect,  to  take 
away  stiffness,  and  to  make  those  who  come  feel  themselves, 
so  to  say,  thoroughly  at  home.  Chairs,  not  forms,  should  be 
arranged  comfortably  and  hospitably  round  the  room,  which 
should  also  be  well  warmed  and  brightly  lighted.  (2)  The 
members  of  the  classes,  as  each  monthly  week  recurs,  should 
be  re-visited  and  re-invited.  General  notices  given  in  church 
are  of  less  than  no  value.  Nor  is  it  advisable  to  leave  messages 
with  neighbours,  for  this  too  often  gives  opportunity  for  a 
sneering  remark,  and  breaks  down  the  delicacy  which  should 
characterise  all  that  has,  however  remotely,  to  do  with  com- 
munications on  spiritual  subjects.  (3)  The  classes  must  on 
no  account  be  omitted.  No  call  of  pleasure  or  of  family  con- 
venience, save  perhaps  once  a  year  when  a  holiday  is  needed 
for  health,  should  be  preferred  to  them.  If  once  it  is  perceived 
that  the  clergyman  can  put  them  aside  for  his  own  purposes, 
the  lesson  will  soon  be  learned  by  those  who  ought  to  attend. 
In  my  opinion,  all  the  success  of  communicant  classes  depends 
simply  on  really  hard  work,  which  moreover  will  increase  in 
hardness  as  the  thing  takes  root  and  grows.  Much  prayer, 
much  patience,  much  tact,  and  much  perseverance  are  here 
absolutely  necessary.  If  a  man  is  not  prepared  for  this  he  had 


i88o  COMMUNICANT   CLASSES  109 

better  not  attempt  to  gather  them  together.  If,  however,  he 
is  not  afraid  of  "  spending  and  being  spent,"  he  will,  unless  in 
very  exceptional  circumstances,  find  after  a  time  that  he  has 
established  without  show  or  fuss,  in  this  bit  of  parochial 
machinery,  a  most  potent  auxiliary  in  his  campaign  against  evil. 

A  few  more  details  may  be  given,  for  no  idea 
can  be  formed  of  his  parochial  life  without  realising 
what  an  important  place  these  classes  took  in  it. 
'  Class-week,'  as  it  was  always  called,  was  a  time 
in  which  every  fibre  of  his  energetic  nature  was 
strained  almost  beyond  endurance,  as  those  knew 
who  saw  him  at  his  hastily-snatched  meal  taken  in 
the  short  interval  between  two  classes.  But  the 
hardest  week  of  the  year,  perhaps,  was  that  in  which 
the  Confirmation  classes,  which  he  always  took  him- 
self, coincided  with  the  Communicant  class-week,  so 
that  nearly  every  hour  of  the  afternoon  and  evening 
was  spent  in  his  study,  one  class  succeeding  another 
with  hardly  any  interval,  till  at  some  time  after 
nine  o'clock  he  would  appear,  saying,  "  I  am  tired." 
But  he  rose  at  six  the  next  day-  as  usual,  ready  for 
that  work  which  was  really  his  life. 

He  divided  his  Communicant  classes  into— 

(1)  Young  ladies,  including  the  daughters  of  the  upper  trades- 
people and  the  pupils  of  a  young  ladies'  school ;  (2)  young  men 
(a)  clerks  and  the  better  educated,  (&)  mechanics ;  (3)  young 
married  women  and  others,  in  two  similar  classes;  (4)  two 
classes  of  elder  married  women,  each  at  a  different  time,  so 
as  to  meet  their  convenience ;  (5)  a  class  of  lads  of  the  choir, 
pupil  teacher  boys,  and  their  compeers;  (6)  labourers;  and 
(7)  pupil  teacher  girls  and  others  connected  with  the  girls'  and 
infant  schools.  Each  of  these  classes  has  its  own  fixed  hour, 
which  is  seldom  or  never  changed,  so  that  they  may  arrange 


i  io  THE    PARISH  1847- 

their  occupations  of  the  week  in  accordance  with  it.  According 
to  my  experience  the  clergyman  should  always  be  ready  to 
receive  the  comers  as  his  visitors,  and  to  greet  them  as  they 
enter  with  a  few  kindly  words  to  each — which  will  not,  I  am 
very  sure,  diminish  the  effect  of  the  more  serious  work  which 
follows.  The  address — which  he  should  deliver,  as  I  think, 
standing,  as  they  sit  round  his  table — would  last  generally  from 
thirty  to  forty  minutes,  and  be  rather  of  the  conversational 
than  sermonising  kind;  given  in  homely  yet  earnest  language, 
brightened  up  sometimes  with  an  appropriate  anecdote  or 
mention  of  public  events,  or  of  something  which  has  happened 
lately  in  the  parish,  or  which  touches  on  the  well-being  of  the 
Church.  .  .  .  The  whole  should  be  concluded  with  prayer,  that 
of  'humble  access'  slightly  altered,  or  some  words  arising 
from  the  special  subject  which  has  been  handled.  After  the 
class  is  ended,  I  frequently  ask  any  who  require  some  indi- 
vidual help  to  stay,  and  call  them  in  separately;  generally, 
indeed,  several  of  their  own  accord  ask  to  be  allowed  to  speak 
to  me.  I  need  not  point  out  of  how  great  value  this  is. 

After  he  left  Wantage  he  still  continued  to  hold 
these  classes  which  had  formed  part  of  his  life  for 
so  many  years ;  and  at  Worcester  he  enjoyed 
gathering  some  of  his  poorer  neighbours  and  his 
servants  into  his  study  once  a  month  to  prepare 
them  for  Communion ;  while  at  Lincoln  he  held 
classes  for  his  own  servants  and  those  of  some  of 
the  adjoining  families,  as  well  as  for  the  Cathedral 
bell-ringers  and  workmen.  His  last  classes  were 
held  just  three  weeks  before  his  death,  in  prepara- 
tion for  Christmas. 

Another  matter  which  from  the  first  he  regarded 
as  of  primary  importance,  was  the  efficiency  of  the 
schools,  both  as  to  teaching  and  fabric.  Thus, 
under  January  31,  1848,  we  find  entered:  "Worked 
at  school  all  the  morning.  The  first  class  (new) 


1880  NATIONAL  SCHOOLS  in 

very  promising.  Great  want  of  arrangement.  The 
lesser  boys  learn  next  to  nothing."  His  invariable 
custom  was  to  visit  the  schools  daily,  and  he  or 
one  of  the  clerical  staff  always  opened  school  with 
the  form  of  prayer  which  he  compiled.  In  this  con- 
nexion may  be  mentioned  the  class  which  he  held 
for  the  girl  pupil  teachers  every  day  immediately 
after  breakfast.  All  the  school  staff  also  assembled 
in  the  study  at  12.45  on  Saturday,  to  report  on  the 
week's  work,  so  that  he  was  in  constant  touch  with 
every  detail  of  elementary  education  in  the  parish. 

He  was  able  also  to  compare  the  state  of  the 
Wantage  schools  with  that  of  the  others  in  the 
neighbourhood,  when,  in  1849,  he  became  Inspector 
under  the  Diocesan  Board  of  Education,  not  only  of 
religious  knowledge,  but  of  the  general  instruction, 
as  well  as  of  the  fabric  and  arrangements.  This 
post  he  retained  as  long  as  he  was  Vicar  of  Want- 
age. He  enjoyed  his  round  of  inspections,  and 
would  bring  back  additions  to  his  stock  of  amusing 
stories,  such  as  :  Scene — A  village  school  on  "  the 
Downs."  Question — "  Now,  children,  tell  me  the 
name  of  an  animal?"  (Chorus) — "Please,  sir,  a 
cow."  "  Very  good ;  now  tell  me  some  fish." 
Long  pause — at  last  a  hand  timidly  lifted — "Well?" 
"  Please,  sir,  a  red  herring."  He  also  gained  a 
valuable  insight  into  the  conditions  of  Church  work 
in  these  lonely  villages,  and  his  desire  to  found  an 
educational  Sisterhood  must  have  been  much  stimu- 
lated by  what  he  saw  of  the  school  teachers  during 
his  early  years  as  Inspector. 


ii2  THE   PARISH  1847- 

One  of  his  first  efforts  was  to  build  suitable 
schools,  and  on  August  6,  1849,  the  corner-stone  of 
a  school  designed  by  Mr.  Woodyer  was  laid  by 
Bishop  Wilberforce.  As  the  number  of  children  in 
the  schools  grew,  other  buildings  were  erected,  but 
so  much  care  had  been  taken  with  the  plans  for  the 
first  schools,  that  no  structural  improvement  or  altera- 
tion was  required  by  the  Government  Inspectors  till  the 
famous  "cloak-room  and  hat-peg"  order  of  1894. 

We  find  that  as  early  as  1848  he  had  perceived 
the  unsatisfactory  results  of  the  ordinary  Sunday 
school  system  : 

Hitherto,  he  writes,  the  Sunday  and  Day  schools  have  been 
on  entirely  different  principles,  our  Day  school  learners  and 
boys  not  attending  any  school,  being  all  mingled  together  on 
Sunday.  This  was  of  necessity  at  first.  For  there  was  no 
school  at  all  but  the  Sunday  school,  including  among  its 
scholars  most  of  those  who  now  form  our  Day  school.  The 
Day  school  then  gradually  attained  its  present  size,  viz.  120 
on  the  books,  with  an  average  attendance  of  106  or  7.  These 
numbers  are  perfectly  manageable  on  week  days  by  Mr.  Hyde 
the  schoolmaster  and  three  monitors.  But  on  Sundays, 
being  mixt  up  with  all  the  others,  the  numbers  (about  180 
or  90)  cannot  be  controlled  by  twelve  or  fourteen  teachers. 
It  seemed  then  advisable  to  take  out  of  the  Sunday  school 
the  Day  scholars,  and  leave  the  rest  for  the  Sunday  school 
teachers  to  manage  and  instruct,  collecting  them  in  the 
English  school.  And  this  was  accordingly  done  with  very 
little  difficulty.  In  church  in  the  afternoon  the  numbers  were 
174,  besides  some  18  who  came  to  the  Vicarage,  making  202 
in  all,  boys  under  Church  instruction.  The  two  schools  were 
divided  and  under  much  better  control. 

The  class  of  boys  who  came  to  the  Vicarage  con- 
sisted of  choir  boys  and  tradesmen's  sons ;  and  the 


i88o  FOREIGN    MISSIONS  113 

Vicar  never  relinquished  it  till  he  left  the  parish. 
The  boys  used  to  arrive  about  two,  and  remained  till 
the  hour  of  afternoon  service.  They  repeated  the 
Catechism,  and  some  verses  of  Scripture  (one  boy 
learnt  all,  or  nearly  all,  St.  John's  Gospel  by  heart), 
and  after  a  little  teaching,  the  Vicar  told  them  a 
story  which  he  continued  Sunday  by  Sunday  for 
months  on  end ;  very  often  bringing  in  some  of  his 
foreign  experiences,  and  not  infrequently  losing  the 
thread  of  the  tale  during  the  week,  which,  however, 
did  not  matter,  as  his  pupils  were  always  ready  to 
remind  him  of  the  exact  point  at  which  it  had 
been  broken  off. 

He  considered  foreign  missions  to  be  an  integral 
part  of  the  Church's  work,  and  accordingly  the 
first  missionary  meeting  was  held  at  Wantage  on 
July  16,  1848,  and  thenceforward  it  became  a  yearly 
event.  He  always  tried  to  secure  for  these  meetings 
speakers  who  had  had  personal  experience  in  the 
mission  field.  Bishop  Selwyn,  Bishop  Hills,  Rev. 
T.  V.  French,  afterwards  Bishop  of  Lahore ;  Bishop 
Gray  of  Capetown  ;  a  black  clergyman,  Rev.  J. 
Duport,  from  the  Pongas  Mission ;  a  native  of 
Honolulu ;  missionaries  from  India,  Australia,  Africa 
visited  Wantage  year  by  year,  and  addressed 
crowded  audiences.  A  parochial  association  in  con- 
nection with  S.  P.  G.  was  formed  in  1862,  under 
the  auspices  of  the  late  Bishop  Christopher 
Wordsworth,  at  that  time  vicar  of  Stanford  in 
the  Vale,  and  a  dear  friend  and  neighbour. 

Nor  did  William  Butler's  zeal  for  missions  confine 

H 


114  THE  PARISH  1847- 

itself  to  his  parish.  He  travelled  as  "deputation"  for 
S.  P.  G.  two  or  three  times ;  and  when  he  was 
living  in  Lincolnshire  during  the  last  years  of  his 
life  he  often  came  across  reminiscences  of  his  visit 
many  years  before. 

He  was  instrumental  in  forming  the  "  Special 
Agency  for  Foreign  Missions,"  of  which  he  was  chair- 
man during  the  whole  time  of  its  existence,  and 
he  acted  as  Commissary  to  Bishop  Macrorie  of 
Maritzburg  from  1868  to  1890. 

To  return  to  the  parish.  He  laid  great  stress 
on  the  ministry  of  preaching,  and  especially  in- 
sisted on  method  and  order  in  this  important 
work.  In  Holy  Week,  1849,  a  scheme  of  sermons 
was  arranged,  followed  a  few  years  later  by  one  for 
the  Lent  services.  His  own  practice  was  invariably 
to  choose  his  Sunday  morning  text  from  the  Epistle 
or  Gospel  for  the  week.  On  Sunday  evenings  in 
the  Trinity  season  he  preached  a  kind  of  commentary 
on  various  books  of  the  Bible ;  and  in  this  manner 
he  expounded  to  his  people,  verse  by  verse,  Isaiah, 
Hosea,  the  Pastoral  Epistles,  the  Revelation,  etc. ; 
not  attempting  to  enter  into  critical  questions,  but 
endeavouring  to  bring  out  the  practical  teaching 
of  Holy  Writ.  On  Tuesday  and  Friday  evenings 
after  service  he  gave  what  he  called  "lectures": 
ten  minutes  of  exposition  and  application  of  a  pas- 
sage usually  taken  from  the  first  lesson  just  read. 
Thus  he  instructed  his  congregation  from  the  Bible, 
while  he  observed  the  order  prescribed  by  the  Church. 
His  sermons  were  all  carefully  prepared,  and  often 


i88o  PREACHING  115 

written  out  fully,  as  were  also  the  "meditations" 
which  he  gave  in  the  afternoon  twice  a  week  in  Lent. 

On  one  summer  Sunday  a  wasp  stung  him  in 
the  throat  soon  after  he  had  entered  the  pulpit. 
He  continued  his  sermon  with  no  outward  sign  of 
discomfort,  but  after  service  mentioned  the  occurrence 
in  the  vestry.  "  Please,  sir,  we  saw  it  crawling 
up  you,  and  we  thought  it  would  sting  you," 
observed  a  chorister.  No  doubt  the  rustic  mind 
which  loves  anything  of  the  nature  of  a  practical 
joke  had  hoped  for  a  "scene"  when  the  crisis  came. 

The  "  Parish  Journal,"  under  the  date  of  Ascen- 
sion Day,  1871,  records  an  informal  preaching.  It 
should  be  remembered  that  this  was  the  preacher's 
fourth  sermon  that  day,  the  first  having  been 
delivered  at  the  4  A.M.  Celebration. 

Coming  home  at  night  I  found  the  iron  bridge  filled  with 
young  men.  This  is  a  great  evil.  They  make  unpleasant 
remarks,  etc.,  to  girls  and  others  passing  by.  I  spoke  to  them 
about  this;  and  as  they  did  not  seem  inclined  to  move  I 
took  out  my  Prayer-book,  read  the  Gospel  for  Ascension  Day, 
and  preached  them  a  short  sermon.  This  answered  well. 
I  wished  them  good  night,  and  as  I  entered  my  garden  they 
all  walked  away,  responding  to  me  in  a  very  friendly  tone. 

In  the  matter  of  hours  of  service  he  tried  as  far 
as  possible  to  meet  the  needs  and  convenience  of 
all  the  parishioners.  An  intimate  friend  writes  of 
his  first  years  at  Wantage  : 

He  laid  down  as  a  principle  for  himself  in  beginning  his  work 
there,  that  he  would  not  in  any  way  alter  the  services  which 
he  found  in  use  then,  viz.  the  Sunday  Matins,  and  afternoon 
(three  o'clock)  Evensong,  and  the  monthly  late  Celebrations.  He 
was  ready  to  odd  on  as  many  other  services  as  he  pleased  as 


ii6  THE   PARISH  1847- 

time  went  on,  but  for  many  years  those  two  Sunday  services 
went  on  unaltered,  his  object  being  to  conciliate  and  satisfy 
the  "  old  inhabitants "  who  had  got  used  to  these  services,  and 
would  regard  any  other  as  innovations. 

Seeing  that  it  was  practically  impossible  for  the 
labourers  to  come  to  church  on  Ascension  Day  and 
New  Year's  Day  at  the  ordinary  hours,  he  began, 
in  1849,  a  Celebration  on  Ascension  Day  at  4.45  A.M., 
and  finding  after  a  few  years'  experience  that  even 
this  hour  was  too  late,  he  fixed  the  service  at  4, 
and  on  New  Year's  Day  at  4.30;  and  he  was 
rewarded  by  the  large  attendance  of  those  on  whose 
behalf  the  effort  had  been  made.  He  found,  too, 
that  the  practice  of  early  Celebrations  satisfied  an 
instinct  of  reverence.  "  I  always  likes  to  come  leer  " 
(i.e.  empty,  fasting),  said  a  sturdy  yeoman  farmer, 
at  one  time  an  opponent,  but  afterwards  a  firm 
supporter  of  the  Vicar. 

He  did  not  consider  reading  the  Lessons  as  a 
matter  of  secondary  importance.  In  a  paper  on 
"  Utterance "  published  in  the  Literary  Cliurchman 
for  Nov.  15,  1889,  he  gave  his  matured  views  on 
this  subject. 

As  to  the  reading  of  the  Lessons,  let  it  be  remembered  that 
as  the  prayers  are  the  action  of  man  speaking  to  God,  so  these, 
looked  at  rightly,  are  nothing  less  than  God  speaking  to  man, 
and  the  reader  cannot  be  too  strongly  impressed  with  the 
great  seriousness  and  solemnity  of  that  which  he  has  in  hand. 
The  book  itself  should  be  reverently  handled  as  that  in  which 
is  contained  the  Word  of  God,  the  very  name  by  which  St.  John 
describes  the  Only  Begotten  Son.  When  the  Lessons  are  con- 
cluded it  should  be  closed,  in  order  to  prevent  dust  or  injury 
happening  to  it,  after  the  pattern  of  Him  Who,  after  reading  in 


i88o  READING  THE   LESSONS  117 

the  synagogue  at  Nazareth  from  the  Prophet  Isaiah,  "closed 
the  book  and  gave  it  again  to  the  minister."  The  Lessons  should 
be  read  not  mumblingly  or  hesitatingly,  not  noisily  or  roughly, 
not  emphatically  or  dramatically,  not  what  is  called  impressively, 
but  quietly,  thoughtfully,  restrainedly,  with  just  so  much,  and 
no  more,  of  emphasis  as  will  enable  the  hearers  readily  to  grasp 
its  meaning.  .  .  .  Again,  it  is  very  desirable  that  the  clergy- 
man, before  reading  any  portion  of  Holy  Scripture,  should 
study  it  in  its  original  language — Greek  or  Hebrew.  In  this 
way  not  only  will  he  appreciate  far  more  thoroughly  the  meaning 
of  the  passage,  but  he  will  be  secured  against  mistakes  some- 
times of  a  very  serious  nature. 

.  "His  reading,"  writes  the  friend  previously  quoted,  "of  the 
Bible  was  very  impressive,  though  exceedingly  quiet.  He  had  a 
way  of  throwing  up  some  word  or  sentence  into  a  strong  relief, 
so  that  it  impressed  itself  on  one's  mind  and  brought  out  new 
meanings.  I  have  often  and  often  thought  of  one  evening  in  the 
Home  chapel  when  the  Lesson  for  the  day  was  the  one  about 
David's  sin.  I  thought  at  the  moment  while  he  was  reading  it 
that  it  was  rather  a  distressing  chapter  to  read  to  those  girls. 
He  read  it  through  quite  evenly  and  quietly  till  he  came  to  the 
last  verse.  Then  there  was  a  little  pause,  and  then  slowly,  and 
with  tremendous  force  of  expression,  he  said,  "But  the  thing  that 
David  had  done  displeased  the  Lord."  I  have  never  forgotten 
the  impression  he  made — it  was  worth  a  whole  volume  of 
sermons." 

He  gained  a  thorough  knowledge  of  the  people 
committed  to  his  charge  by  assiduous  visiting  at 
their  houses,  not  omitting  such  Dissenters  as  were 
willing  to  receive  his  visits.  Thus  he  notes  in 
May,  1862: 

Visited  the  .    They  are  strong  Baptists.     They  received 

me  in  a  very  kind  and  friendly  manner.  I  am  sure  that  it  is 
quite  worth  while  to  cultivate  people  of  this  kind,  for  friendliness, 
if  it  does  not  win  them  to  the  Church,  yet  disarms  them  for 
open  hostility;  and  it  is  impossible  to  say  when  the  good 
seed  may  be  sown. 


Ii8  THE   PARISH  1847- 

On  visiting  in  general,  he  writes  in  October,  1851: 

Our  only  hope,  humanly  speaking,  and  considering  the  un- 
popularity of  the  side  which  we  advocate,  is  in  gentleness, 
resolution,  demonstrative  self-denial,  and  hard  work  in  visiting. 
This  last,  I  think,  we  need  to  have  imprest  on  us.  To  go  out 
at  four  o'clock,  stay  half-an-hour  or  longer  pleasing  ourselves 
in  some  way,  will  not  do.  We  must  honestly  and  conscien- 
tiously devote  at  least  three  and  a  half  or  four  hours  daily  to 
visiting  work.  Now  is  the  time  when  harvest  and  fairs  are 
over  and  people  are  sick.  Sickness  too  should  be  taken  in  a 
business-like  way.  We  should  think  what  effect  we  intend  to 
produce  on  the  person,  and  work  to  that.  We  should  visit 
always  at  the  same  time,  so  that  the  sick  man  may  learn  to 
look  for  the  visit.  We  should  always  pray  with  him.  It  is 
very  easy  to  lounge  time  away,  which,  if  we  were  in  Mr. 
Hart's  Foundry  working  as  mechanics,  we  should  not  dare  to  do. 

Another  paper  in  the  Literary  Churchman  sums 
up  his  many  years'  experience  : 

Parochial  visiting  should  be  seriously  accepted  and  taken 
in  hand  as  an  integral  portion  of  the  duties  of  the  parish 
priest,  and  a  definite  portion  of  the  week's  hours  should  be 
allotted  to  the  carrying  of  it  out.  I  cannot  agree  with  those 
superior  beings  who  deliberately  decline  to  visit,  on  the  ground 
that  their  parishioners  ought  to  come  to  them.  Rather  it 
seems  to  me  that  this  is  essentially  one  of  the  cases  when 
Mahomet  should  go  to  the  mountain,  and  be  thankful  that 
he  has  the  chance  of  doing  so.  Nor,  again,  do  I  think  those 
wise  who  allege  as  a  reason  for  not  visiting  their  flock  that 
they  have  no  "gift"  for  such  as  this,  that  they  do  not  know 
what  to  say,  and  the  like.  I  am  quite  sure  that  they  are 
throwing  away  a  very  important  chance,  and  that  with  a  little 
effort  against  their  natural  difficulties,  such  as  most  of  us  have 
to  make  in  regard  to  other  things,  and  after  a  little  experience 
and  a  few  mistakes,  they  will  find  that  the  "  gift "  will  come. 
The  time  given  to  such  visiting  is  in  no  sense  of  the  word 
wasted  time.  Most  true  is  the  old  saying,  "  A  house-going 
parson  makes  a  church-going  people."  Nothing  at  all — no  fine 
preaching,  nor  overflowing  soup-kettle,  nor  system  of  assiduous 


i88o  PAROCHIAL  VISITING  119 

"district  visitors,"  brings  the  people  to  church  like  the  regular 
loving  visit  of  the  parson.  What,  moreover,  like  this  enables 
the  minister  to  gain  a  real  knowledge  of  his  people's  minds 
and  natures,  their  weaknesses  and  their  strong  points — their 
needs  both  of  body  and  soul  ?  Surely  everything  of  this  kind 
that  he  can  learn  respecting  them  is  helpful — not  least  even 
their  language,  varying  as  it  does  so  much  in  different  parts 
of  England,  and,  as  all  know,  so  closely  interwoven  with  their 
mode  of  thought.  .  .  .  Parochial  visiting  to  be  really 
effective  must  be  carried  out  with  a  definite  purpose  and 
object — that  object  in  few  words  being,  like  all  the  rest  of  a 
minister's  life  and  duties — the  winning  of  souls  to  Christ,  and 
the  maintaining  them  in  the  right  course.  .  .  .  The  winning 
of  souls  much  resembles  the  taking  of  a  city.  Trenches  must 
be  laid  down,  often  far  from  the  walls,  gradually  to  approach 
nearer  and  nearer,  till  the  opportunity  is  found  for  entering. 
Thus  the  minister — never  having  lost  sight  of  his  real  object, 
viz.  to  do  the  work  of  Christ  and  "preach  His  gospel  to 
every  creature,"  at  least  of  those  committed  to  his  charge — 
must  be  contented  often,  it  may  be  for  many  years,  to  talk 
on  general  subjects — as  the  health  of  the  family;  their  worldly 
condition  and  prospects ;  events  which  have  occurred  in  the 
neighbourhood,  whether  public  or  private ;  the  garden,  if  there 
be  one;  but,  above  all,  as  the  topic  most  unfailing  of  interest 
and  most  legitimate,  the  children — their  characters,  their 
progress  at  school,  their  present  and  their  future.  Such 
subjects  as  these,  kindly  and  sympathetically  handled,  will 
break  down  barriers  of  shyness  and  reserve,  and  open  the  door 
for  more  directly  spiritual  work.  Confidence  once  thus  kindled, 
there  will  follow  in  the  right  time  counsel  as  to  private  or 
household  prayer,  encouragement  to  regular  attendance  at  the 
House  of  God,  the  importance  of  Holy  Communion,  the 
best  method  of  maintaining  the  Christian  battle  against  the 
world,  the  flesh,  and  the  devil ;  possibly  also  the  meaning  of 
true  Repentance  for  past  or  present  sin,  in  its  threefold 
division  of  Contrition,  Confession,  and  Satisfaction.  ...  As 
to  the  time  of  visiting — the  afternoon  hours  are,  on  the 
whole,  the  most  convenient  for  all  classes,  especially  for  the 
poor,  whose  cottage  or  lodgements  necessarily  require  the 
morning's  ordering,  before  a  visitor  can  be  welcome.  .  .  . 


120  THE   PARISH  1847- 

It  has  sometimes  been  found  a  good  plan — where  the  clergyman 
is  sufficiently  well  known  and  on  thoroughly  intimate  terms — to  visit 
in  the  early  evening,  that  is,  after  the  day's  work  is  ended, 
and  before  the  elder  portion  of  the  family  has  retired  to  rest. 
In  this  way,  and  often  in  no  other,  acquaintance  may  be  made 
with  the  men,  who  are  necessarily  for  the  most  part  absent 
from  their  homes,  and  invisible  or  at  least  unapproachable 
during  the  day.  The  writer  of  this  paper,  taking  the  idea 
from  the  busy  parochial  life  of  Bishop  Stanley  of  Norwich, 
used  occasionally,  as  it  seemed  to  him  with  much  advantage, 
thus  to  visit  some  of  his  flock.  At  such  times,  in  houses 
where  such  a  practice  would  be  acceptable,  it  might  be  pro- 
posed to  read  and  explain  some  short  passage  of  Holy 
Scripture,  and  to  say  a  few  Collects  taken  from  the  Book 
of  Common  Prayer.  ...  As  much  respect  should  be 
shown  to  the  poorest  cottager  as  to  the  greatest  peer.  The 
head  should  always  be  uncovered  on  entering  the  house,  and  a 
chair  should  not  be  taken  till  offered.  These  may  seem  trifles, 
but  they  may  materially  affect  the  position  of  the  visitor  in  the 
estimation  of  the  visited.  .  .  .  Then,  too,  let  the  clergyman 
be  careful  not  to  confine  his  visits  to  the  poor,  as  though 
they  were  a  marked-off  class,  or  as  if  he  had  no  place  in  the 
houses  of  others.  All  should  be  visited,  rich,  poor,  tradesmen, 
farmers,  gentry,  professional  men,  Dissenters,  Church  people, 
friends,  and  even — if  he  have  any — foes.  Is  he  not  the 
minister  of  the  whole  parish  1  If  he  have  any  doubt  as  to 
his  welcome,  if  the  very  touch  of  the  latch  fill  his  mind  as  with 
the  anxiety  of  some  difficult  problem,  at  the  thought  of  what 
to  say  and  do,  let  him  offer  a  word  of  momentary  prayer,  and 
he  will  never  find  this  to  fail. 

It  is  astonishing  what  solid  and  definite  work  may  thus 
be  done,  far  more  than  by  sermons  or  by  any  merely  general 
teaching,  how  many  difficulties  may  be  explained,  how  many 
stumbling-blocks  removed,  how  much  the  tone  of  a  parish 
may  be  lifted,  how  much  interest  excited  in  the  Church,  how 
the  clergyman  himself  may  win  love  and  legitimate  influence. 
To  this  it  may  be  added  that  nothing  is  more  refreshing  to 
one  who  has  the  slightest  love  for  souls  than  an  afternoon 
thus  spent.  The  sense  of  being  kindly  welcomed  and  greeted, 
the  sense  of  knowledge  gained  of  his  people,  the  sense  of 


i88o  CLEANLINESS   NEXT   TO   GODLINESS  121 

duty  accomplished,  the  sense  of  having  distilled  some  good 
and  abiding  teaching,  the  sense  of  having  gained  warm  and 
attached  friends, — all  these  combine  to  "reward  sevenfold  into 
his  own  bosom "  the  man  who,  instead  of  wasting  his  hours 
in  lingering  over  a  novel  or  newspaper  by  his  fireside,  or  flirt- 
ing at  lawn  tennis,  or  seeking  what  is  called  society,  or  even 
following  out  congenial  studies,  visits  steadily,  prayerfully, 
and  laboriously  that  flock  over  which  "  the  Holy  Ghost  has 
made  him  overseer." 

The  deep  interest  in  his  people  which  these 
extracts  illustrate,  caused  him  not  to  confine  his 
labours  for  them  to  spiritual  concerns.  As  in  most 
old  places,  many  of  the  cottages  in  Wantage  were 
hardly  fit  for  human  habitation,  and  those  who 
lived  in  them  led  lives  not  far  above  "the  beasts 
that  perish."  As  early  as  1849,  the  Vicar  purchased 
a  batch  of  these  cottages,  pulled  them  down,  replaced 
them  with  properly  built  houses,  and  tenanted  them 
with  respectable  families.  This  he  did  on  several 
occasions,  and  some  of  the  other  Wantage  residents 
followed  his  example.  Another  matter  which  he 
had  much  at  heart  was  the  health  of  the  town. 
He  soon  discovered  that  the  systems  of  drainage  and 
of  the  water  supply  were  highly  unsatisfactory,  as 
was  proved  by  frequent  visitations  of  typhoid  fever ; 
and  he  went  about  with  the  town  surveyor  personally 
investigating  nuisances,  and  never  resting  till  the 
arm  of  the  law  was  brought  to  bear  upon  them. 

He  did  not  overlook  the  value  of  thrift,  and  at 
the  beginning  of  1859  he  set  on  foot  a  penny  bank, 
which  for  many  years  he  attended  every  Saturday 
evening.  He  was  astonished  at  the  power  of  saving 


122  THE   PARISH  1847- 

out  of  their  small  earnings  shown  by  the  labouring 
class  as  soon  as  the  opportunity  was  put  within 
their  reach. 

He  took  part  in  such  social  festivities  as  the 
annual  dinners  of  the  "  clubs "  or  benefit  societies ; 
and  from  the  beginning  of  the  Volunteer  movement 
he  attached  himself  to  it,  partly  from  his  strong 
sense  of  patriotism,  and  partly  from  his  feeling  of 
responsibility  as  the  representative  of  the  Church 
in  the  parish.  Thus  he  writes  on  Oct.  16,  1873  : 

The  prizes  of  the  Volunteers  given  away  to-day.  I  was 
asked  to  give  them,  and  to  join  them  afterwards  at  supper. 
This  I  gladly  did,  because  I  am  convinced  that  at  this  present 
time  it  is  of  all  importance  for  the  clergy  to  assert  and  accept 
their  position  as  the  ministers  of  the  great  national  Church, 
and  therefore  interested  in  all  the  concerns  of  the  people 
among  whom  they  are. 

Colonel  Lord  Wantage,  V.C.,  with  whom  the 
Vicar  was  closely  associated  as  Chaplain  to  the 
Berks  Volunteers,  has  recorded  his  recollections  of 
him  in  his  military  capacity. 

Among  the  Vicar  of  Wantage's  many  great  qualities,  were 
some  characteristic  ones  which  especially  endeared  him  to  his 
country  neighbours  and  friends,  outside  his  own  parochial 
domain.  He  had  a  spirit  of  uncompromising  partisanship 
which  led  him  to  throw  himself  heartily  into  the  ranks  of 
those  who  were  carrying  out  projects  or  movements  which 
coincided  with  his  own  convictions  of  what  was  good,  right, 
or  patriotic. 

Patriotism  was  indeed  a  marked  feature  of  his  singularly 
manly  character.  He  was  an  Englishman  and  a  patriot  to  his 
heart's  core.  The  military  instinct  was  strong  within  him,  and 
soldiers  and  everything  connected  with  them  appeared  strongly 
to  his  imagination  and  his  sympathy.  He  saw  clearly,  and  in 


i88o  CHAPLAIN   TO   THE   VOLUNTEERS  123 

his  addresses  to  soldiers  brought  out  strongly  the  great  qualities 
requisite  alike  to  make  a  good  soldier  and  a  good  Christian. 

The  early  stages  and  subsequent  more  complete  development 
of  the  Volunteer  movement  very  precisely  fell  in  with  the 
combative  elements  in  his  character. 

The  notion  that  England  was  to  be  left  at  the  mercy  of  a 
possible  invading  foe  would  put  him  into  a  state  of  hot 
indignation,  during  which  he  would  pour  forth  floods  of 
patriotic  sentiments,  sometimes  almost  unmeasured  as  coming 
from  a  minister  of  peace.  On  these  occasions  he  would  give 
expression  to  his  confident  opinion  as  to  the  necessity  of 
every  Englishman  being  trained  to  arms  for  the  defence  of  his 
country,  and  of  every  child  being  taught  the  discipline  of 
drill. 

It  was  not  unnatural,  taking  into  account  these  sentiments, 
that  he  should  throw  himself  heart  and  soul  into  active  support 
of  the  Volunteer  movement,  especially  in  his  own  county,  and 
he  found  a  congenial  spirit  in  his  neighbour  and  attached 
friend,  Colonel  Loyd  Lindsay,  who  commanded  the  Kegiment 
raised  in  the  County  of  Berks. 

The  Vicar  took  great  delight  in  being  present  in  his  capacity 
of  Regimental  Chaplain  during  the  week  annually  spent  by 
the  Regiment  in  camp  in  various  parts  of  the  county.  For 
many  years  he  continued  to  fill  the  duties  of  Chaplain,  asso- 
ciating freely  with  his  military  comrades,  and  exercising  among 
them  an  influence  for  good  which  must  have  left  a  deep  mark 
on  many.  He  was  always  punctual  to  hold  a  short  open-air 
service  at  the  close  of  the  early  morning  drill.  On  Sundays 
an  early  Celebration  in  a  small  tent  specially  arranged  for  the 
purpose  was  followed  by  a  full  parade  of  the  troops  and  an 
open-air  service.  The  spirit-stirring  sermons  he  preached  on 
these  occasions,  sometimes  standing  on  the  ancient  Tumuli  of 
Churn  Down,  or  under  the  spreading  oak  trees  of  Berkshire 
Forests,  and  once  on  the  slopes  of  the  Saxon  burial  hill  at 
Lockinge,  with  the  troops  drawn  up  in  line,  and  the  villagers 
of  Ardington  and  Lockinge  grouped  on  the  grass  terraces  of 
the  steep  hill  side — are  still  vividly  present  to  the  minds  of 
his  old  comrades. 

The  special  excellence  of  the  "Wantage"  Company,  which 
he  regarded  as  peculiarly  his  own — their  prowess  at  the  rifle 


124  THE    PARISH  1847- 

butts  and  their  success  in  the  "tug-of-war" — were  frequent 
matters  of  exultation  to  him. 

On  Low  Sunday  it  was,  and  is  still,  the  custom  of  the 
Wantage  parishioners  to  give  up  the  body  of  their  church  to 
the  Volunteers  and  Yeomanry  of  the  district,  while  neighbour- 
ing families  interested  in  them  found  seats  which  the  good 
people  of  Wantage  readily  accorded  them.  On  these  occasions, 
after  a  hearty  service  and  an  eloquent  sermon  from  the  Vicar, 
a  military  parade  was  formed  around  the  statue  of  King  Alfred 
in  the  market  place,  and  the  troops  marched  round  the 
town — the  band  playing,  and  the  Vicar  in  his  Chaplain's 
uniform  marching  in  the  forefront,  his  keen  face  lighted  up 
with  martial  ardour. 

When  the  Vicar  left  the  corps  on  taking  up  his  duties  at 
Lincoln,  his  comrades  of  the  Berkshire  Regiment  presented 
him  with  a  piece  of  plate,  having  words  of  respect  and  affection 
engraved  on  it,  which  ever  afterwards  found  an  honoured 
place  on  the  sideboard  at  the  Lincoln  Deanery — reminding  him 
doubtless  of  happy  days  and  warm  friendships. 

This  sketch  of  his  methods  in  his  parochial  work 
may  be  summed  up  by  some  extracts  from  the 
"  Parish  Journal,"  written  at  the  close  of  the  years 
1864,  1867,  and  1876. 

Summary,  1864. — Lukewarmness  is  a  great  evil,  which  of 
course  brings  with  it  inconsistency  and  carelessness.  How 
can  they  be  met?  Only,  as  I  believe,  by  self-sacrifice,  earnest 
watchfulness,  and  readiness  to  take  advantage  of  every  opening 
and  opportunity.  There  is  great  danger  lest  we  be  satisfied 
with  interesting  and  drawing  people  to  us  without  spiritualising 
and  Christianising  them,  lest  we  suffer  them  to  rest  satisfied 
with  mere  decency  and  the  minimum  of  service.  We  are  set 
among  people  naturally  unholy,  careless,  unbelieving  (in  the 
deeper  sense  of  the  word),  that  is,  having  no  natural  leanings 
towards  the  unseen  and  the  heavenly.  Should  not  all  our 
thoughts  be  bent  towards  raising  them  1  ^/iwv  TO  TroXirtvpa  cv 
ovpavois  virapxeil  Our  visits  should  be  regular,  and  with  this 
end  before  us,  however  far  off  we  may  seem  to  be  from  attaining 


i88o  SUMMARIES  I25 

it.  What  is  needed  is  a  gentle  pressure,  the  carefully  con- 
sidering of  each  soul's  needs,  and  the  moving  it  on  gently  in 
that  direction.  Some  need  the  very  simplest  elements,  prayer, 
decently  regular  attendance  at  church,  and  the  like;  others 
should  be  stirred  towards  Holy  Communion;  others  again  to 
daily  service,  or  at  least  occasional  but  regular  attendance  on 
week  days;  others  again  to  higher  things.  Wherever  there 
is  difficulty — and  where  is  there  not  in  dealing  with  souls? — 
we  should  bring  the  case  at  evening  before  God,  and  pray 
for  help  before  entering  into  the  house.  The  work  should 
be  recognised  as  the  real  object  of  our  lives,  the  reason  why 
God  has  made  us,  and  not  as  a  Trdpepyov  to  be  taken  up  and 
laid  down  at  our  pleasure.  It  should  occupy  our  thoughts 
and  our  hearts. 

Summary,  1867. — To  rush  forward  would  simply  be  to  alienate 
our  best.  We  have  to  teach,  give  them  a  desire,  and  then  to 
act.  Meanwhile,  there  is  plenty  of  work  to  be  done  of  the 
more  solid  kind ;  the  poor  to  visit  and  lead  onwards,  the 
children  to  teach  to  pray  and  to  love  the  Church.  Evening 
visits,  children  called  in  and  questioned  and  examined,  regular 
house-to-house  work,  the  watching  for  a  gleam  of  desire  in 
the  hard  and  ungodly,  earnest  prayer  for  our  people,  pleading 
for  them  with  God,  thinking  over  them  individually  and 
collectively,  daily  attendance  on  the  sick;  there  is  in  all  these 
enough,  and  more  than  enough,  to  occupy  and  satisfy  one. 
Nothing  but  this  kind  of  solid  service  will  keep  this  parish 
up  to  the  mark.  Our  people  are  not  enthusiastic,  but  they 
have,  nevertheless,  certain  principles,  admitted  truths,  on  which 
we  may  build,  and  for  which  we  should  carefully  and  discrim- 
inately  look.  May  God  grant  us  all  a  true  spirit  of  love  of 
souls,  and  that  readiness  to  give  up  all  for  the  sake  of  those 
souls  for  whom  Jesus  died,  without  which  no  ministry  can  ever 
be  otherwise  than  "as  sounding  brass  or  as  a  tinkling  cymbal." 
Summary,  1876.  —  Our  work  then  lies  before  us:  steady, 
persistent  visiting,  gaining  a  thorough  knowledge  of  our  people, 
and  bringing  them  to  know  us  and  our  motives  and  ends; 
earnest  thought-out  sermons  and  instructions  in  Church  of  every 
variety;  inculcation  of  Christian  duties,  especially  of  private 
prayer  and  Holy  Communion;  watchfulness  over  our  children,  to 
see  that  they  are  taught  why  they  are  (1)  Christians,  (2)  Church- 


126  THE   PARISH  1876 

men ;  trying  by  all  legitimate  means  to  win  Dissenters  and  the 
careless,  of  whom,  alas!  we  have  very  many  among  us;  preparing 
bright  attractive  services ;  readiness  at  all  times  and  at  all 
costs  to  devote  and  sacrifice  our  time,  our  means,  and  all  that 
we  have  for  the  sake  of  those  to  whom  we  are  sent.  Nothing 
short  of  all  this  will  be  strong  enough  to  resist  the  atmosphere 
of  evil  and  indifferentism,  of  ignorance  and  perverseness.  May 
God  grant  to  us  all  the  strength  and  grace  which  we  need ! 


CHAPTER  V. 
THE    SISTERHOOD. 

A  BREAK  must  now  be  made  in  the  narrative  of 
the  parochial  work  at  Wantage  to  tell  the  story  of 
the  Sisterhood,  which,  starting  from  small  beginnings 
and  under  great  discouragement,  was  destined  to 
claim  a  large  share  of  William  Butler's  life  and 
interests.  His  indomitable  energy  and  perseverance 
which  refused  to  acknowledge  defeat  so  long  as 
something  remained  worth  fighting  for,  carried  him 
through  difficulties  and  opposition  which  would 
have  cowed  a  weaker  man.  The  history  of  his 
forty-five  years  connexion  with  the  Community  is 
closely  interwoven  with  his  life  and  work  as  a 
parish  priest. 

As  early  as  1839  NewTnan,  Keble,  Pusey,  and 
Hook  were  corresponding  on  the  possibility  of 
establishing  societies  of  Soeurs  de  Charite.  It  was 
not,  however,  till  1845  that  the  first  trial  was  made 
by  the  establishment  of  Dr.  Pusey 's  Sisterhood  in 
Park  Village,  Regent's  Park.1  About  three  years 

1  See  Life  of  Dr.  Pusey,  vol.  iii.,  p.  23,  et  seq. 


128  THE  SISTERHOOD  1848- 

later  Miss  Sellon's  response  to  the  Bishop  of  Exeter's 
appeal  for  workers  amongst  the  poor  in  Plymouth 
resulted  in  the  establishment  of  a  Sisterhood  to 
carry  on  the  works  of  mercy  in  that  town. 

The  events  which  led  to  an  attempt  at  founding 
a  Sisterhood  at  Wantage  were  nearly  coincident  with 
those  which  led  to  the  founding  of  Miss  Sellon's 
Community. 

When  William  Butler  entered  upon  his  parochial 
work  in  Wantage  early  in  1847,  he  had  already 
conceived  in  his  mind  a  plan  for  organising  a 
Sisterhood,  which  should  not  only  be  a  handmaid 
to  him  in  the  work  of  female  education  in  his 
parish,  and  in  visiting  the  sick  and  poor,  but 
should  ultimately  train  Sisters  to  go  out  two  and 
two  into  the  villages  as  school  teachers,  and  so 
provide  for  the  better  education  of  the  poor  in  rural 
districts.  He  foresaw  that  the  battle  of  the  Church 
would  be  fought  in  the  schools,  and  having  been 
struck  by  the  isolated  condition  of  the  village 
teachers,  and  by  their  lack  of  a  high  standard,  he 
desired  to  set  on  foot  a  scheme  to  raise  their 
tone,  brighten  their  lives,  and  increase  their  useful- 
ness as  Church  workers. 

Ere  long  he  thought  he  saw  a  realisation  of  his 
hopes.  Archdeacon  Manning  was  anxious  to  find 
work  for  a  friend  of  his,  Elizabeth  Crawford  Lock- 
hart,1  who  had  sustained  the  great  grief  and  shock 
of  seeing  her  brother  and  step-mother  join  the 
Church  of  Rome,  but  who,  under  the  influence  of 

1  Cousin  to  John  Gibson  Lockhart. 


1894  SETTING  TO  WORK  129 

Manning,  was  at  that  time  kept  loyal  herself  to 
the  Church  of  England. 

Miss  Lockhart  was  a  woman  of  no  ordinary 
character,  and  her  cultivated  mind  and  holy  life 
endeared  her  to  her  friends,  among  whom  she 
reckoned  the  Kebles  and  Dysons.  This  led  Manning 
to  speak  of  her  to  Mr.  Butler,  who  sent  her  an  invi- 
tation to  Wantage  early  in  1848.  She  spent  the 
Lent  of  that  year  at  the  Vicarage,  and  soon  became  a 
loved  and  trusted  friend  of  the  Vicar  and  his  family. 

The  Vicar  and  Miss  Lockhart,  both  being  eager 
to  set  the  work  on  foot  without  loss  of  time,  allowed 
no  difficulties  to  stand  in  their  way.  As  no  house 
was  available,  two  cottages  were  taken,  and  soon 
after  Easter  the  nucleus  of  the  present  Sisterhood 
was  formed.  The  household  at  first  consisted  of  Miss 
Lockhart,  who  was  the  Mother  Superior,  and  Miss 
Mary  Reid,  who  had  been  for  some  years  connected 
with  the  Lockharts  as  mistress  of  a  small  school 
established  by  them  at  Chichester,  and  besides  these, 
two  young  girls  who  were  to  make  themselves 
useful  in  the  house,  and  to  be  trained  to  take  part 
in  the  work  with  the  possibility  of  some  day 
becoming  Sisters.  The  arrangements  of  the  little 
household  were  of  the  simplest  and  most  inexpensive 
kind.  The  help  of  friends  on  visits  was  gladly 
welcomed,  and  one  who  in  those  early  days  was 
frequently  there  gives  details  of  their  life : 

One  of  the  cottages  had  been  inhabited  before  by  a  working 
shoemaker,  and  my  bedroom  was  the  room  in  which  the  cobbler 
sat  and  worked ;  it  was  on  the  ground  floor,  very  little  above 

I 


130  THE  SISTERHOOD  1848- 

the  street,  and  I  could  hear  the  passers-by  and  the  old  watch- 
man who  used  then  to  patrol  the  streets  crying  the  hour  of 
the  night.  The  oratory  was  upstairs,  a  little  blue-washed 
place  with  sloping  roof  and  roughly-boarded  floor ;  the  only 
furniture  consisted  of  two  long  desks  with  sloping  sides  made 
of  bare  deal,  at  which  we  stood  to  say  the  Offices.  There  was 
room  for  three  or  four  at  the  outside  to  stand  on  either  side. 
Here  sometimes  the  Vicar  would  come  to  join  in  one  Office  or 
another,  or  occasionally  to  give  us  a  few  words  of  exhortation. 

Such  notices  as  "Lauds  with  the  Sisterhood  £  to 
6," — "  Lauds  and  Terce  with  the  Sisterhood,  and 
addressed  them  on  their  first  beginning.  May  He 
ever  help  them  and  prosper  their  work," — "  With 
Mr.  Keble  to  Prime  at  the  Sisterhood,"  are  of 
frequent  occurrence  in  the  "  Parish  Journal "  during 
his  first  years  at  Wantage.  Here  also  came  Arch- 
deacon Manning  from  time  to  time. 

The  National  schools  were  not  then  built,  and 
the  girls'  school  was  carried  on  in  two  cottages 
which  were  adapted  for  the  purpose.  Here  Miss 
Lockhart  and  her  staff  taught  daily.  School  began 
at  nine  A.M.,  then  all  went  to  church  for  matins 
at  ten,  and  back  to  school  till  twelve,  and  again 
in  the  afternoon  from  two  to  four.  Some  visiting 
was  also  done  by  the  Sisters  among  the  sick  poor. 
Towards  the  end  of  1848  the  little  household  moved 
into  a  larger  and  more  commodious  cottage.  In 
February  1849  they  were  joined  by  Harriet  Day  : 
she  was  sent  by  Mr.  Henry  Wilberforce  to  make 
trial  of  the  life  and  work  in  the  newly  formed 
Community.  Later  on  came  Charlotte  Gilbert,  a 
servant  maid,  the  daughter  of  a  labourer.  These 


1894  A   RETROSPECT  131 

two  only  among  the  earliest  members  of  the  Society 
ended  their  days  as  Sisters  of  the  Community. 

In  an  address  delivered  to  the  Sisters  in  1873 
the  Vicar  referred  to  these  early  beginnings. 

It  is  now  twenty-five  years  since  I  was  first  consulted, 
young  as  I  was,  and  unworthy  as  I  was  and  have  been  ever 
since,  as  to  the  practicability  of  forming  a  Sisterhood  to  work 
among  the  poor  of  the  parish  of  Wantage.  There  was  then 
but  one  other  Sisterhood  in  existence  in  the  Church  of  England, 
and  I  differed  from  others,  much  more  worthy  than  myself, 
who  feared  the  effect  of  such  an  experiment  in  the  unprepared 
state  of  the  minds  of  the  people  in  general  for  such  a  step, 
and  with  the  help  of  the  noble  and  gifted  woman  who  deter- 
mined to  devote  her  life  and  her  means  to  the  work,  this 
Community  was  begun.  How  from  that  time  it  has  been 
carried  on,  and  at  the  cost  of  what  anxiety,  with  what 
earnest  prayer,  with  what  hopes  and  fears,  only  myself  and 
one  other  know. 

It  is  with  deep  thankfulness  that  I  look  at  what  we  are 
now  and  think  of  the  trembling  beginning  of  that  work  which 
I  cannot  doubt  God  has  indeed  blessed.  The  distinguishing 
characteristic  of  this  Society  from  the  first  has  been  simplicity. 
Our  object  at  the  beginning  was  to  gather  together  those 
who  would  be  content  with  a  frugal  life,  patient  toil,  quiet 
appearance, — content  with  yielding  themselves  in  simple-hearted 
devotion  to  spend  and  be  spent  for  their  Master  and  their 
Lord, — I  repeat,  great  simplicity  in  dress,  and,  if  I  may  use 
the  word,  in  ritual :  hard  work  and  little  show  has  ever  been 
the  mark  of  this  Community.  Does  this  seem  a  poor  and 
unsatisfactory  sort  of  aim  1  Surely  not !  if  we  consider  Him 
Who  was  "the  lowly"  as  well  as  the  "undefiled  One."  Is  not 
the  Hidden  Life  the  ideal  of  the  true  Sister,  and  where  can 
she  find  it  sooner  than  in  extreme  simplicity,  a  quiet  exterior, 
and  in  deep  humility. 

But  though  the  first  beginnings  were  so  happy 
and  peaceful  it  was  not  long  before  the  hope  of 


132  THE   SISTERHOOD  1848- 

founding  an  Educational  Order  was  destined  to 
receive  its  first  rude  shock. 

In  order  to  understand  how  penitentiary  came 
to  take  the  place  of  educational  work  in  the  early 
days  of  the  Community  it  will  be  necessary  to 
recall  the  state  of  the  English  Church  fifty  years 
ago. 

As  the  standard  of  holy  living  was  raised  by  the 
inculcation  of  sound  doctrine,  and  the  note  of 
penitence  was  emphasised  as  one  of  the  essential 
marks  of  a  sanctified  life,  the  desire  was  awakened 
in  the  hearts  of  many  to  extend  a  helping  hand 'to 
that  class  of  sinners,  who,  often  more  sinned 
against  than  sinning,  are  looked  upon  as  the  out- 
casts of  society.  The  Church  of  Rome  and  the 
Protestant  bodies  on  the  Continent  had  long  estab- 
lished homes  for  the  reception  of  fallen  women, 
and  these  had  been  valued  as  a  means  whereby 
many  weary  and  heavy  laden  souls  had  been  re- 
claimed from  a  course  of  sin  and  misery  and  led 
into  paths  of  peace;  but  until  1848  the  Church  of 
England  had  not  borne  witness  against  the  sin  of 
impurity  or  extended  the  hand  of  compassion  to 
those  desirous  to  return  from  their  evil  ways  by 
raising  up  for  their  reception  homes  in  which  the 
work  undertaken  should  bear  a  distinctly  spiritual 
stamp.  The  Rev.  John  Armstrong  (afterwards 
Bishop  of  Grahamstown)  is  justly  regarded  as  the 
originator  of  the  Church  Penitentiary  movement, 
and  he  was  instrumental  in  arousing  the  conscience 
of  a  large  number  of  Churchmen  to  the  duty  of 


1894  CHURCH   PENITENTIARY   WORK  133 

caring  for  these  poor  neglected  outcasts.  But  apart 
from  any  direct  connexion  with  Mr.  Armstrong, 
two  Church  Penitentiaries  came  into  existence  about 
the  same  time.  The  first  of  these  was  opened  by 
Mrs.  Tennant  at  Clewer  on  St.  Peter's  Day,  1849, 
the  other  a  few  months  later  at  Wantage.  Miss 
Lockhart  had  been  only  a  short  time  at  work  in 
the  parish  schools,  when  probably  influenced  by 
Manning,  she  conceived  herself  called  to  the  work 
of  rescuing  the  fallen.  This  change  of  purpose, 
involving  as  it  apparently  did,  failure  of  his  care- 
fully thought-out  scheme  for  an  educational  Order, 
naturally  was  the  cause  of  no  small  disappointment 
to  William  Butler.  He  expressed  his  feelings  in 
letters  to  Archdeacon  Manning,  who  rejoined  : 

LAVINGTON,  Sept.  25,  1848. 

I  have  been  most  sincerely  grieved  at  the  thought  of  having 
grieved  you.  And  I  hardly  know  what  to  write.  It  was 
thought  right  towards  you  that  such  an  idea  should  not  be 
entertained  without  your  knowledge.  And  the  effect  of  this 
communication  is  no  more  than  to  prevent  a  sudden  mis- 
understanding hereafter,  if  the  day  should  ever  come.  I  say 
this,  because  clearly  as  I  seem  to  see  the  work  and  the  way, 
of  which  Miss  Lockhart  has  spoken  to  you,  as  falling  within 
the  will  of  God,  yet  I  have  so  deep  a  sense  of  the  duty  not 
to  change  any  work  without  overbearing  reasons,  and  of  the 
singular  awfulness  of  the  work  she  referred  to,  that  I  think 
my  life  (no  certain  one)  may  probably  drop  before  it  becomes 
a  practical  question :  and  if  I  live,  so  long  a  time  may  elapse 
before  it  could  be  attempted,  that  I  think  Miss  Lockhart's  stay 
at  Wantage  as  permanent  as  your  incumbency.  I  don't  say 
that  it  might  not  end  during  your  incumbency,  but  your 
incumbency  may  end  during  her  stay.  Therefore  I  do  not  see 
that  you  need  be  disquieted. 


134  THE   SISTERHOOD  1848- 

He  wrote  a  little  later  : 

LAVINGTON,  Oct.  13,  1848. 

I  have  been  called  away  to  London,  and  got  home  only  last 
night,  or  your  letter  should  have  been  answered  sooner. 

I  thank  you  for  it  very  sincerely.  It  takes  from  me  a  fear 
and  a  pain  I  could  not  but  feel.  Though  I  never  for  a 
moment  doubted  the  perfect  right  and  fitness,  by  the  rule  of 
nature  and  of  the  spirit  of  our  correspondence,  yet  I  felt  that 
nothing  short  of  a  high  submission  of  will,  an  abnegatio  sui 
tertii  gradtis  would  suffice  to  keep  from  between  us  a  feeling 
[of]  grief  arising  from  contrariety  of  will.  But  your  letter 
sets  me  at  rest  for  ever :  and  I  feel  sure  that  with  such  a 
discipline  of  self,  even  such  a  loss  as  I  trust  you  may  not  incur, 
would  turn  into  blessing  to  your  flock  and  to  your  own  soul. 

While  the  diversion  of  Miss  Lockhart's  energy 
to  penitentiary  work  was  still  pending,  the  Vicar, 
writing  to  Mr.  Keble,  refers  to  the  Sisters'  work 
during  the  first  year  of  their  residence  in  Wantage. 

I  wanted  also  to  talk  to  you  about  our  Sisterhood  here, 
which  has,  by  the  blessing  of  God,  sped  so  fairly.  It  is 
exercising  daily  more  influence  on  our  people;  and  as  a  washer- 
woman said  to  me  the  other  day,  "It  makes  one  ashamed 
of  oneself  to  see  Miss  L."  All  classes  take  to  it.  But  as 
I  think  you  know,  I  shall  lose  a  great  mainstay,  Miss  L., 
for  the  Penitentiary,  and  with  her  at  least  two  will  swarm 
off,  leaving,  in  fact,  Miss  A.  alone.  Two  or  three  will,  how- 
ever, I  expect,  join  us;  but  it  is  most  needful  to  preserve 
continuity,  and  I  am  very  anxious  to  keep  Miss  A.  as  head 
of  a  future  Home. 

On  July  22,  1849  (St.  Mary  Magdalene's  Day), 
the  Vicar  thus  addressed  the  Sisters : 

Dear  Sisters,  a  year  has  now  passed  since  first  we  met  to 
set  apart,  as  far  as  in  us  lay,  this  house,  and  you  who  were 
about  to  dwell  here,  to  the  service  of  Almighty  God. 


1894  HOME   FOR   PENITENTS   OPENED  135 

It  seems  but  yesterday  since  we  knelt  here  together,  and 
yet  these  twelve  months  have  been  able  strangely  to  change 
the  whole  current  of  your  lives.  You  feel  yourselves  distinctly 
set  apart — I  who  address  you  feel  it.  Others  little  used  to 
look  with  a  discerning  or  even  friendly  eye  on  the  higher 
aimings  of  the  Christian  life,  feel  it  and  own  it  also.  Your 
life  has  now  assumed,  so  to  say,  a  permanent  mould.  The 
Religious  Life,  to  use  a  technical  phrase,  has  become  your 
natural  life.  The  ways  of  the  world : — secular  arrangements, 
times,  studies,  society,  things  not  out  of  place,  nor  wrong, 
would  now  seem  strange  and  jarring  to  you.  Religious  order, 
regular  hours  of  devotion,  the  weekly  Celebration,  involving 
a  daily  preparation  of  a  more  or  less  formal  kind,  seasons 
of  silence,  penitence ;  sorrowing,  rejoicing,  as  the  Church 
appoints,  with  Christ  •  have  now  wound  themselves  round 
your  very  being,  edifying  and  sustaining  your  souls. 

This  feeling  of  sanctification  is  exactly  that  which  was 
needed  to  enable  us  to  strike  root  downwards  for  the  present, 
and  by  God's  blessing  hereafter  to  bear  fruit  upwards. 

After  some  months  of  consideration,  it  was  de- 
cided, with  the  approval  and  concurrence  of  the 
Vicar,  that  a  Home  for  penitents,  with  Miss  Lock- 
hart  as  its  head,  should  be  opened  at  Wantage, 
under  the  direction  of  Archdeacon  Manning,  and 
with  the  Rev.  T.  Vincent,  who  was  working  as 
curate  in  the  parish,  as  chaplain. 

On  a  bright  winter's  morning,  Feb.  2,  1850, 
four  priests,  four  Sisters,  and  a  few  friends  met 
together  to  dedicate  the  first  penitentiary  work 
undertaken  by  Sisters  in  the  Church  of  England 
since  the  Reformation.  The  event  is  briefly  recorded 
in  the  "  Parish  Journal." 

Feb.  2,  Purification  of  the  B.  V.  M. 

The  house  in  Newbury  Street  was  opened  with  a  Celebration. 
Vincent  arranged  the  chapel.  Three  sisters,  two  assistant 


136  THE   SISTERHOOD  1848- 

friends,  two  penitents  were  present  at  the  Celebration,  together 
with  the  Archdeacon,  H.  W.,1  Vincent,  and  myself.  Before 
the  Celebration  I  said  the  benediction  from  the  Kituale  for 
the  house. 

The  service  was  most  thrilling,  and  one  could  not  but  rest 
in  faith  that  God's  blessing  is  on  the  work.  In  the  evening 
the  Archdeacon  addressed  the  "Familia." 

Miss  Lockhart  wrote  a  fuller  account  of  the 
ceremony  to  a  friend. 

PENITENTS'  HOME,  Feb.  6,  1850. 

You  will  have  heard  from  Mrs.  Pretyman  of  the  safe  arrival 
of  her  beautiful  scrolls,  and  the  actual  beginning  of  our 
work.  I  should  like  you  to  have  been  with  us  on  that  morning, 
nothing  could  have  looked  more  solemn  and  bright  withal 
than  our  little  chapel.  The  altar,  with  its  pure  white  frontal, 
ornamented  only  with  five  gold  crosses,  candlesticks  and  altar- 
plate  really  befitting  an  altar,  and  between  the  candlesticks  and 
a  three-branched  light  in  the  centre  four  vases,  very  beautiful 
in  themselves,  filled  with  white  camellias,  and  a  wreath  of 
flowers  resting  upon  the  window-sill  above. 

We  had  four  priests,  the  Father  Director,  Vicar,  Chaplain, 
and  H.  Wilberforce.  The  Vicar  said  the  Office  for  Blessing 
the  House,  and  then  the  Archdeacon  celebrated,  the  women 
being  allowed  to  be  present  on  this  occasion.  They  are  not 
to  be  so  generally,  as  the  Archdeacon  does  not  think  it  safe 
for  them  until  they  are  better  prepared.  In  the  evening  he 
preached  as  nobody  but  he  can,  to  the  whole  household, 

dear  ,  who  has  permission  to  come  to  our  Offices,  being 

also  present. 

On  Sunday  he  celebrated  again  at  eight  o'clock,  and 
preached  for  the  Vicar's  schools  at  church  in  the  morning, 
H.  Wilberforce  officiating  for  us,  and  before  evening  service 
he  spoke  to  the  Penitents  alone  in  the  chapel,  and  after  it 
to  us.  I  was  sorry  there  were  but  two  yet  come,  E.  G.,  and 
M.,  the  workhouse  girl;  two  others  have  come  since  and  we 
are  keeping  the  remaining  places  for  E.  Ryle's  pupils  who 
are  now  in  hospital,  and  are  to  come  as  soon  as  they  are 

1  Rev.  Henry  Wilberforce,  vicar  of  East  Farleigh. 


1894  A   HEAVY   BLOW  137 

well  enough.  We  are  still  in  much  confusion,  but  hope  by 
next  week  to  be  quite  settled ;  the  two  houses  make  it 
much  more  difficult  to  arrange  things  in  a  regular  orderly 
way.  Charlotte  Gilbert,  the  probationary  lay  Sister,1  is  very 
useful.  .  I  like  her  much,  and  hope  she  may  like  the  life  well 
enough  to  stay  with  us.  ...  I  have  always  forgotten  to  say 
to  you  that  we  are  by  no  means  in  a  condition  as  you  seemed 
to  think  not  to  want  help.  The  resources  our  Father  Director 
counts  so  touchingly  upon  are  neither  more  nor  less  than  the 
alms  of  the  faithful,  which  he  feels  sure  will  never  fail  us  if 
God  indeed  prospers  our  work.  We  have  enough  to  support 
ourselves  and  six  penitents,  but  about  £200  a  year  will  be 
wanted  for  rent,  chaplain's  salary,  etc.,  so  if  you  know  any 
one  who  would  like  to  help  us  either  by  giving  or  collecting, 
we  shall  receive  it  thankfully,  so  that  it  be  not  given  by 
constraint,  but  for  the  love  of  God  and  of  His  lost  sheep,  and 
of  course  the  larger  our  funds  the  greater  will  be  our  power 
of  enlarging  our  limits. 

Hardly  however  had  this  new  work  been  fairly 
started  when  the  attractive  power  of  Rome  proved 
too  much  for  the  Superior,  and  before  three  months 
had  elapsed  the  following  entry  appears  in  the 
"  Parish  Journal." 

April  17.  Archdeacon  Manning  came.  Much  interesting 
though  sad  talk  with  him.  I  fear  much  trouble  here  from 
one  quarter.  May  God  in  His  mercy  avert  it  and  soften  the 
blow. 

The  tidings  of  this  great  trouble,  after  the  blow 
had  fallen,  were  sent  to  Mr.  Keble. 

1  Charlotte  Gilbert  was  the  only  lay  Sister  of  the  Community.  As 
time  went  on  Mr.  Butler  found  the  problems  which  presented  them- 
selves in  classifying  the  members  drawn  from  various  social  grades, 
into  Choir  and  Lay  Sisters,  to  be  so  great  that  he  resolved  after 
much  careful  consideration  and  consultation  with  those  who  had 
practical  experience  of  the  difficulty,  to  have  only  one  social  grade 
within  the  Order  which  he  founded.  This  is  one  of  the  dis- 
tinguishing notes  of  the  Order  of  St.  Mary  the  Virgin  of  Wantage. 


138  THE   SISTERHOOD  1848- 

[July,  1850.] 

I  am  ashamed  to  trouble  you,  but  you  will,  I  know,  be 
interested  in  the  sad  news  that  Miss  L.  has  finally  determined 
on  leaving  us,  and  that  this  day  she  will  join  her  brother.  We 
have  done  what  we  could  in  some  ways  for  her,  but  the  strong 
draw  towards  Rome,  together  with  the  undermining  support 
of  her  spiritual  counsellors,  shivered  all  my  attempts  to  pieces. 
Now  we  are  in  much  trouble  to  keep  the  work  up ;  we  have 
no  one  on  whom  we  can  rest,  indeed,  the  household  is  a  body 
without  a  backbone,  just  standing  up  and  no  more.  The  Bishop 
kindly  offers  to  do  all  he  can  for  us.  But  he  is  overwrought 
with  so  many  things.  And  my  hands  are  indeed  so  over- 
loaded that  I  can  [hardly]  keep  what  is  on  them  already. 
Vincent  holds  up  nobly.  Can  you  find  anyone  for  us  ?  We 
are  not  at  present  in  want  of  money,  for  the  heaviest  and 
main  expenses  are  frankt  to  the  end  of  the  year.  But  the 
anxiety  is  boundless. 

What  is  doing  in  the  Church?  Are  men  failing,  or  why  is 
the  great  meeting  put  off?1  It  is  very  depressing  to  us  at  a 
distance. 

The  calamity  which  had  befallen  the  infant 
Community  did  not  stop  here.  Sister  Mary  quickly 
followed  her  friend  and  Superior.  Henry  Wilberforce, 
too,  had  seceded  to  Eome.  Would  the  step  he  had 
taken  affect  the  two — Sister  Harriet  and  Sister 
Charlotte — who  remained,  and  who  had  been  sent 
to  Wantage  by  him?  This  was  naturally  the  thought 
uppermost  in  the  mind  of  the  Vicar,  and  he  resolved 
to  throw  himself  into  the  breach  and  try  to  hold 
the  position. 

Sister  Harriet  was  a  woman  of  a  remarkably  shy 
and  retiring  character,  and  up  to  this  time  had 
come  little  into  personal  contact  with  the  Vicar, 

1  To  protest  against  the  Gorham  judgement.  Life  of  Dr.  Pusey> 
vol.  iii.,  chap.  x. 


1894  A   FAITHFUL   REMNANT  139 

and  indeed  stood  so  much  in  awe  of  him,  that 
when  he  came  to  the  house  she  used  to  contrive 
some  errand  amongst  her  poor  people  to  take  her 
out.  But  now,  if  the  work  was  to  be  carried 
through,  it  was  to  her  that  he  must  look  at  least 
for  temporary  help  in  this  crisis.  She  had  been 
converted  from  Socinianism  by  Henry  Wilberforce, 
and  felt  she  owed  to  him  her  very  soul.  Surely 
the  step  he  had  taken  must  be  right,  and  she 
would  follow  him  and  her  friend  Miss  Lockhart, 
to  whom  she  had  deeply  attached  herself,  into  the 
Church  of  Rome.  Thus  she  argued,  but  the  Vicar 
would  not  let  her  go  without  seeking  to  convince 
her  in  calmer  moments  of  her  error,  and  to  retain 
her  in  the  English  Church.  He  invited  her  to  stay 
at  the  vicarage ;  while  there  he  not  only  instructed 
her  daily  as  to  the  position  of  the  Church  of  her 
baptism,  but  gradually  gained  the  deep  affection 
of  her  nature,  and  the  visit  was  the  beginning  of  a 
friendship  which  strengthened  as  the  years  went  on. 

Bishop  Wilberforce,  to  whose  fatherly  advice 
William  Butler  had  looked  from  the  earliest  begin- 
nings of  the  Community,  at  this  juncture  proved  a 
most  kind  and  helpful  friend.  He  took  an  early  oppor- 
tunity of  visiting  the  house,  and  at  his  suggestion 
various  modifications  were  effected. 

From  this  time  till  1854  the  Sisters  worked  on 
under  the  superintendence  of  the  Vicar  without 
formally  appointing  a  Superior.  With  William 
Butler  as  their  spiritual  guide,  the  little  band  of 
Sisters  caught  the  spirit  of  singleness  of  purpose 


140  THE    SISTERHOOD  1848- 

which  he  strove  to  instil  into  them.  In  spite  of 
all  difficulties  and  disappointments  the  Vicar  was 
able  to  look  even  hopefully  forward,  and  to  write 
cheerfully  to  Mr.  Keble  at  the  beginning  of  the 
New  Year: 

WANTAGE  VICARAGE,  Jan.  9,  1851. 

Many  happy  New  Years  to  you  and  yours  and  all  at  Hursley. 
It  seems  strange  to  write  so  blithely  in  this  day  of  sorrow, 
but  I  think  in  spite  of  all  there  was  no  harm  in  wishing 
and  even  hoping.  .  .  .  Miss  Hedger  (Sister  Catherine)  deserves 
great  consideration,  for  she  came  here  in  the  hour  of  our  need 
without  having  any  kind  of  acquaintance  with  us  or  our  work, 
merely  invited  by  a  mutual  friend.  She  has  now  given  up 
home  and  sisters,  after  a  bitter  struggle,  to  uphold  our  Home, 
and  is  moreover  able  and  discreet.  Things  have  prospered 
under  her  care  beyond  our  hopes.  ...  It  would  be  an  exceeding 
pleasure  to  us  to  show  you  "the  Home."  You  know  that 
Miss  Ashington  is  likely  to  come  here  again  as  a  permanent 
sister;  she  talks  of  coming  on  the  20th  or  21st. 

Philip  Pusey  is  staying  with  us,  as  merry  and  funny  as  a 
kitten.  .  .  . 

A  few  months  later  he  wrote  : 

We  are  all  very  strong  and  hearty.  In  the  Home  are  eleven 
penitents  and  five  Sisters,  and  we  just  keep  about  £120 
between  us  and  jail. 

Slowly,  and  yet  always  steadily,  the  work  grew 
and  developed  under  exceptionally  difficult  circum- 
stances. As  more  applications  were  made  for 
admission  to  the  Penitentiary,  increased  accommoda- 
tion was  obtained  by  turning  lofts  into  garrets,  and 
out-houses  into  laundry  and  work-rooms,  and  finally, 
by  building  a  temporary  chapel.  So  short-handed 
were  the  Sisters  at  times  that  on  two  occasions 
they  turned  to  the  Clewer  Sisterhood  for  help,  and 


1894  WORK  AT   THE    HOME  141 

their  appeal  was  generously  responded  to  by  that 
Community. 

There  was  much  which  gave  encouragement  to 
the  workers.  Some  of  those  gathered  into  the 
Home  caught  the  fire  of  love  for  souls  and  sought 
to  reclaim  others.  In  1851  a  penitent  was  dying 
of  consumption.  Her  constant  prayer  for  nearly  a 
year  was  that  a  sister,  whom  she  knew  to  be  living 
a  life  of  sin,  might  be  led  to  repentance.  As  each 
new-comer  was  admitted,  she  eagerly  inquired  her 
name.  After  many  disappointments  the  poor  sufferer 
had  at  length  the  happiness  of  welcoming  the  sister 
for  whose  salvation  she  had  so  earnestly  supplicated. 
The  other  had  heard  of  her  dying  condition  and 
had  walked  all  the  way  from  Bristol  to  see  her. 
When  she  knocked  at  the  door  she  had  neither 
knowledge  of,  or  desire  for,  repentance.  Her  visit 
ended  in  her  remaining  and  attending  on  her  sister 
during  the  last  weeks  of  her  life,  and  the  one 
who  had  learned  penitent  love  taught  with  failing 
breath  the  love  of  the  Saviour  who  had  died  for 
sinners. 

One  other  incident  bears  testimony  to  the  same 
earnest  zeal  on  the  part  of  the  penitents.  One  of 
their  number  was  unsettled  and  resolved  on  leaving 
the  Home.  Three  others  banded  together  to  win 
her  by  their  prayers  to  remain.  They  asked  per- 
mission to  be  allowed  to  spend  a  day  in  fasting 
and  prayer  in  behalf  of  their  companion.  This  was 
not  allowed  them,  but  the  chaplain,  having  spoken 
to  them  collectively  and  ascertained  that  all  desired 


142  THE   SISTERHOOD  1848- 

to  help  her,  consented  to  their  giving  up  their 
breakfast  and  spending  their  time  in  devotion 
which  he  himself  conducted.  Before  the  day  closed 
they  had  the  joy  of  having  their  companion  among 
them,  willing  and  anxious  to  remain. 

As  the  work  developed  the  fact  became  more 
and  more  apparent  that  a  duly  appointed  head  was 
needed  for  the  well-being  of  the  Community,  and 
William  Butler's  clear  judgement  and  discernment  of 
character  led  him  to  see  in  Sister  Harriet,  whose 
retiring  and  shy  nature  made  her  known  to  few,  the 
one  to  whom  under  his  care  and  guidance  he  could 
trust  the  ruling  of  the  Sisterhood.  In  the  "  Parish 
Journal,"  February  21,  1854,  he  notes  : 

The  Bishop  went  in  the  morning  to  the  Home  and  there 
instituted  Sister  Harriet.  This  seems  a  most  important  step, 
and  probably  she  is  the  first  ecclesiastically  appointed  Superior 
in  an  English  house  of  this  kind  since  the  Reformation. 

After  her  death  in  Jan.  1892,  he  thus  described 
her  character  to  the  Sisters  : 

Hers  was  indeed  a  life  of  faith.  It  was  no  light  thing 
in  those  early  days  to  go  forth  like  Abraham  "not  knowing 
whither  he  went,"  trusting  to  the  call  of  God,  certain  that 
where  He  called  it  would  be  right  to  follow;  so  it  was  she 
came  to  Wantage.  She  was  always  the  same — timid,  diffident, 
yet  full  of  simple  faith.  Humility,  simplicity,  faith,  love, 
were  the  characteristics  of  her  whole  being.  .  .  .  Her 
singularly  truthful  and  quick  nature  made  her  thoroughly 
grasp  and  rejoice  in  the  teaching  of  the  Sacramental  doctrines 
of  the  Church,  and  she  remained,  in  spite  of  all  temptations 
and  difficulties,  firm  and  faithful  to  the  Branch  of  Christ's 
Church  established  in  our  land. 

So  diffident  was  she  and  retiring,  that  for  a  long  time  it 
seemed  impossible  that  she  should  hold  a  position  of  respon- 


1894  FOUNDATION    STONE   LAID  143 

sibility  and  direction  of  others,  but  in  answer  to  many  prayers 
she  was  pointed  out  as  the  future  Mother  of  the  Community. 
...  It  was  indeed  mainly  owing  to  her  singleness  of  mind, 
combined  with  much  firmness  of  purpose,  that  the  Community 
was  enabled  to  face  the  difficulties  of  its  earlier  years. 
Scarcely  ever  did  her  judgement  fail,  whether  of  persons  or  of 
things.  It  was  quite  impossible  to  know  her  intimately  without 
loving  and  admiring  her.  And  certainly  nothing  has  done 
more  than  her  loyalty  to  the  teaching  of  the  Church  to 
impress  upon  the  Community  that  character  of  sober  obedience 
which  I  trust  it  will  never  abandon. 

And  now  the  work  to  which  he  had  so  faithfully 
clung  when  those  who  were  its  originators  had 
failed  seemed  fairly  to  have  taken  root.  Before 
the  close  of  1854  William  Butler  was  eager  in  his 
desire  that  the  Community  should  have  a  per- 
manent home ;  this  could  only  be  suitably  effected 
by  building.  By  July  25  of  the  following  year 
matters  were  sufficiently  in  train  for  the  founda- 
tion stone  of  the  present  St.  Mary's  Home  to 
be  laid. 

The  day  began  with  a  storm  of  rain  which,  however,  cleared 
off"  by  one,  when  the  Bishop,  accompanied  by  the  Archdeacon 
of  Berks,  Dr.  Wordsworth,  Milman,  Barff,  Thirlwell,  Trinder, 
Du  Pre,  Houblon,  Cranmer,  G.  Sawyer,  Smith,  and  the  clergy 
of  the  parish,  proceeded  to  lay  the  corner  stone  of  the  new 
St.  Mary's  Home,  on  the  ground  purchased  from  W.  Dixon, 
at  the  top  of  Mill  Street.  The  service  was  adapted  from 
that  used  on  a  similar  occasion  at  Clewer,  and  the  choir  sang 
it  extremely  well.  Many  of  the  farmers  and  others  were 
present  from  the  market,  and  a  goodly  attendance  of  our 
Church  folk.  Altogether  the  whole  service  was  very  satis- 
factory and  cheering.  May  God  prosper  the  work.  .  .  .  The 
Bishop  addrest  the  workmen  especially,  and  very  much  to 
the  purpose,  on  the  duties  and  blessedness  of  labouring  in 
such  a  work. 


144  THE   SISTERHOOD  1848- 

September  15th,  1856.     The  new  St.  Mary's  Home  entered. 
September   19th,   1856.     Service   at  the   Home   on   entering 
and  using  the  (temporary)  chapel  for  the  first  time. 

An  address  to  the  Sisters  given  about  this  time 
reviews  the  work  of  the  first  eight  years,  and  shows 
the  spirit  in  which  the  foundations  of  the  Order 
were  laid. 

We  have  now,  by  the  mercy  of  God,  all  but  completed  the 
eighth  year  of  our  existence  as  a  society.  The  history  of  our 
fortunes  and  trials,  the  hopes  and  fears,  the  difficulties  and 
the  marvellous  reliefs,  the  encouragements  and  mercies,  of 
that  octave  of  years,  would  indeed  take  long  to  tell. 

When  I  look  back  to  our  small  beginning,  when  I  think 
of  the  fearful  shock  which,  in  its  tender  growth,  our  society 
received ;  when  I  consider  the  just  suspicion  which  then  lighted 
upon  us;  the  difficulty,  nay,  as  it  seemed  almost  impossibility 
of  supporting  even  the  three  or  four  penitents  and  the  three 
Sisters  engaged  in  their  education ;  our  fruitless  endeavours 
to  find  any  one  to  whom  we  could  fitly  confide  the  charge 
of  the  household,  and  our  total  inexperience  in  this  kind  of 
work,  I  do  indeed  bless  God  for  the  bountifulness  with 
which  He  has  heard  our  prayers,  and  supplied  us  with  exactly 
the  help  we  needed,  and  granted  us  so  much  absolute  success. 
Especially,  my  Sisters,  I  would  thank  Him  that  while  He 
has  given  us  what  we  needed,  He  has  never  given  us  more. 
.  .  .  Very  wholesome  then  for  us  is  this  our  simple  unadorned 
and  formless  household.  We  may  indeed  be  thankful  that 
we  see  not  our  reward.  It  must  be  good  for  us,  it  is  like 
our  Lord  Jesus  Himself.  And,  believe  me,  we  need  not 
fear — "Fear  not,  little  flock,"  it  is  His  own  gracious  word. 
The  "  little  one "  in  God's  good  time  shall  become  a  thousand  ! 
.  .  .  Let  us  indeed  see  that  it  is  no  lower  motive  than  the 
love  of  Jesus  which  constrains  us.  ...  Thus  shall  you  have 
that  peace  which  He  alone  can  give.  .  .  .  The  Lord  Him- 
self shall  be  your  inheritance  and  your  lot.  He  shall  dwell 
with  you  and  make  His  blessed  presence  in  all  its  warmth 
and  light,  its  grace  and  truth,  its  perfection  of  holiness  felt 
and  recognised.  And  in  his  own  good  time  perfecting,  estab- 


1894  ELEMENTARY   EDUCATION  145 

lishing,  strengthening,  settling  you.  He  shall  give  you  the 
consolation  of  a  manifold  blessing.  Yea !  the  Lord  shall  in- 
crease you  more  and  more,  you  and  your  children.1 

But  while  the  Vicar  was  thus  guiding  the  Peni- 
tentiary work  under  the  Sisters'  care,  his  original 
wish  of  establishing  an  educational  Order  had  lost 
none  of  its  fervour.  When  the  Sisters  in  1850 
moved  into  a  larger  house,  the  cottage  was  retained 
for  the  teaching  staff  of  the  girls'  school ;  and  before 
long  a  lady  was  introduced  to  him  who  seemed 
likely  to  be  a  valuable  helper  in  this  work.  About 
the  same  time  a  family  of  five  sisters,  ardent  and 
instructed  Churchwomen,  settled  in  the  parish. 
They  lived  together  for  some  years,  helping  the 
Vicar  in  every  way,  and  especially  by  forwarding 
the  various  educational  works  which  were  now 
springing  up  in  Wantage.  At  the  end  of  1851 
he  wrote  in  the  "  Parish  Journal "  :  "  Our  school 
staff  promises  better  than  it  has  ever  done.  The 
great  accession  to  the  parish  of  the  Miss  W.'s  is 
indeed  a  subject  of  greatest  thankfulness." 

But  in  spite  of  all  this,  the  next  few  years  brought 
much  disappointment  and  failure. 

The  girls'  schools  were,  from  one  reason  or 
another,  a  source  of  much  anxiety  to  the  Vicar. 
Still  his  constancy  and  perseverance  in  work  to 

1Ir\  a  letter,  dated  Florence,  May  12,  1890,  he  wrote  :  "One  thing 
I  feel  pretty  sure  about,  the  danger  of  having  too  much  beauty, 
and  too  many  valuable  things  in  religious  houses  or  even  in  churches. 
In  the  one  case  they  tempt  the  spoiler,  in  the  other  they  make 
God's  house  into  a  mere  show-place  for  casual  visitors.  I  am  thankful 
that  our  Community  goes  in  for  simplicity  and  plainness." 

K 


146  THE   SISTERHOOD  1848- 

which  he  had  once  put  his  hand  never  failed,  and 
he  was  rewarded  by  seeing  his  desire  realised,  though 
not  quite  on  the  lines  he  had  first  laid  down. 
The  story  of  success  gradually  growing  up  out  of 
disappointment  and  apparent  failure  is  to  be  found 
in  the  "  Parish  Journal "  : 

1852.     Miss  began  a  work  school  for  the  girls  of  the 

parish  who  have  past  school  days.  They  are  to  receive  one 
shilling  weekly  and  their  work  sold.  This  will  be  a  great 
thing  for  them,  enabling  the  mothers  to  spare  them  from  that 
demoralising  habit  of  carrying  babies  about  at  sixpence  a  week. 
We  are  working  up  a  small  middle  school  in  connection  with 
the  day  school,  under  the  superintendence  of  Miss . 

The  year  1853  saw  the  beginning  of  a  fresh 
educational  work,  combining  under  one  roof  a 
training  school  for  girls  going  to  service  with  one 
for  pupil  teachers  in  National  schools.  A  lady 
who  had  begun  at  Littlemore  a  school  for  the 
training  of  girls  for  domestic  service  wished  to 
remove  it  to  Wantage,  and  to  complete  her  project 
by  building  a  suitable  home. 

The  Vicar,  overweighted  with  the  financial  anxieties 
of  his  various  schools,  was  not  desirous  for  the  intro- 
duction of  another  into  his  parish,  and  said  :  "  One 
more  school  would  fairly  ruin  him";  nevertheless, 
the  house  was  built  and  the  work  began. 

In  the  entry  at  the  close  of  the  year  he  expresses 
grave  concern  about  his  schools. 

There  is  constant  anxiety   about  those  in   charge   of  them. 

Miss  ,    from   her   delicate   health   and   other   anxieties,   is 

scarcely  to  be  depended  upon  for  long,  while  Miss ,  by 

whose   exertions   the   middle  school  is  sustained,   is  absolutely 


1894  A   SCHOOL   SISTERHOOD  147 

engaged  to  the  St.  Saviour's  Sisterhood  as  soon  as  her  place 
can  be  supplied.  We  need  much  prayer  for  our  work.  I 
feel  daily  more  and  more  how  little  is  needed  to  break  it 
rudely  to  pieces,  and  how  helpless  we  ourselves  are.  Such 
as  it  is,  God  alone  has  brought  it  to  pass,  and  He  alone  can 
uphold  it.  Are  we  sufficiently  convinced  of  this  ? 

The  offer  of  some  voluntary  workers  in  1854 
cast  a  ray  of  brightness  on  what  would  otherwise 
have  been  a  very  depressing  year  with  regard  to 
the  schools.  The  draft  of  a  letter  to  one  of  these 
ladies  shows  the  plan  of  operation  the  Vicar  had 
in  view.  In  writing  of  the  female  department  of 
his  parochial  work,  he  says : 

It  consists — (1)  of  a  large  National  school;  (2)  of  an  infant 
school ;  (3)  of  a  middle  school  for  tradesmen's  and  farmers' 
daughters;  (4)  of  a  small  training  establishment  for  mistresses; 
and  (5)  of  an  industrial  school  for  girls  who  have  passed 
through  the  curriculum  of  the  girls'  school.1  .  .  .  Our  present 
desire  is  to  extend  our  operations  through  the  deanery  of 
Wantage,  of  which  I  am  Rural  Dean,  and  endeavour  to  supply 
the  various  schools  and  poor  parishes  of  which  it  is  composed 
with  school  mistresses  of  a  more  truly  religious  character  than 
are,  as  I  find  from  long  experience,  at  present  to  be  obtained. 

1855  opened  with  fresh  hope,  and  on  St.  James's 
Day,  on  which  day  the  foundation  stone  of  St.  Mary's 
Home  was  also  laid,  the  Vicar  was  gladdened  by 
what  seemed  to  be  the  accomplishment  of  his  long- 
cherished  plan,  the  beginning  of  a  School  Sisterhood. 

At  eight  o'clock  the  Bishop  instituted , ,  and 

as  Superior  and  Sisters  of  the  new  School  Sisterhood,  whose 
charge  should  be  the  training  of  young  children,  servants, 
and  governesses. 

But  before   twelve  months  had  run  their  course 

1To  these  was  shortly  added  a  ladies'  school. 


148  THE   SISTERHOOD  1848- 

the  scheme  which  William  Butler  had  with  so  much 
patience  and  prayerfulness  sought  to  carry  out,  had 
come  to  an  end. 

Oct.  1.  Visit  from  Superior  of  School  Sisters  full  of 
troubles.  There  is  need  of  help  for  the  Middle  school  which 
is  in  danger  of  falling  to  pieces.  Sister  Mary  is  overworkt 
and  I  fear  will  not  pass  her  Government  examination. 

A  mistress  must  be  provided  for  the  Girls'  school,  provision 
must  be  made  for  pupil  teachers.  .  .  .  My  fears  last  year 
about  the  School  Sisterhood  have  been  sadly  realised,  and 
now  after  much  demonstration  and  talk,  after  the  solemn 
service  and  the  Bishop's  address  on  St.  James's  Day,  it  seems 

that  Miss  is  a  person  far  too  self-willed  and  unpractical 

to  leave  in  command  .  .  .  but  besides  all  this,  the  poverty 
of  the  household  renders  it  absolutely  necessary  to  make  a 
complete  change.  I  cannot  but  believe  that  with  proper 
management  and  greater  openness  all  might  have  gone  well, 
but  as  it  is  we  must  be  content  if  we  are  not  buried  or 
damaged  in  her  ruin.  .  .  .  There  are  of  course,  thanks  be  to 

God,  subjects  of  joy  and  hope.  Mrs.  and  her  new 

buildings  in  Tanner  Street  seem  likely  to  afford  a  good  prospect 
of  carrying  on  an  educational  work. 

Feb.  17,  1856.  Much  anxiety  about  Miss  and  her 

Sisterhood.  After  willingly  leaving  all  things  in  my  hands, 
she  now  writes  very  dictatorially  arranging  them  in  her  own 
way.  This  of  course  cannot  be  permitted,  and  I  see  nothing 
but  a  separation  in  prospect.  May  God  guide  us  all  in  this 
matter  and  suffer  no  human  feeling  to  stand  in  the  way  of  His 
holy  service. 

April  12.  It  is  very  grievous  to  have  been  forced  to  give 
up  a  plan  which  promised  so  well  as  that  inaugurated  on 
St.  James's  Day,  but  the  extreme  irregularity  of  the  Superior 
and  her  impatience  of  control  made  it  hopeless  to  go  on  with 
her  aid,  and  I  must  now  carry  on  the  work  in  a  different 
fashion.  I  trust  and  pray  that  we  may  yet  gain  the  assistance 
we  need,  and  work  through  the  ladies  of  the  Home  an  educa- 
tional system. 

But  at  present  with  the  very  small  numbers  and  invalided 
condition  of  those  who  are  there,  it  would  be  quite  wrong  to 


1894  FURTHER    DISAPPOINTMENTS  149 

build  castles.  We  must  just  struggle  on  from  hand  to  mouth 
and  pray  for  help.  Everything  is  for  the  present  provided, 
yet  I  feel  that  all  is  uncertain  and  that  everything  may  in  an 
hour  be  thrown  on  my  hands.  It  is  a  most  anxious  and  critical 
time  and  only  God's  help  will  carry  us  through. 

St.  James's  Day.  One  cannot  help  recalling  St.  James's 
Day  of  last  year  and  mourning  over  the  failure  of  what  seemed 
then  so  fairly  hopeful.  God  grant  that  such  failures  may 
make  us  more  careful  and  prayerful. 

The  anxiety  shown  in  these  extracts  was  but  too 
well  founded.  By  the  end  of  1856  the  Superior 
and  another  member  of  the  School  Sisterhood  had 
joined  the  Church  of  Rome,  and  the  third  died  a 
few  months  later. 

Whilst  William  Butler  had  thus  been  experiencing 
disappointment  in  the  work  which  was  so  dear  to 
his  heart,  he  was  also  at  the  same  time  full  of 
anxiety  for  the  Penitentiary,  the  support  of  which 
had  been  left  upon  his  hands.  When  he  received 
it  into  his  parish,  its  originators  had  undertaken 
to  provide  funds  for  its  maintenance,  but  with  the 
secessions  to  Rome  the  channels  through  which  the 
funds  would  have  flowed  were  cut  off,  and  there 
was  no  alternative  for  him  but  to  accept  the 
additional  burden.  Not  only  the  material  responsi- 
bilities, but  the  spiritual  duties  also  at  times  fell 
to  his  charge  when  ill-health  compelled  the  chaplain 
to  be  away  from  his  post.  Extracts  from  letters 
to  Sister  Harriet1  and  from  the  "  Parish  Journal " 
show  how  continuous  and  unflagging  his  work  for 
the  Penitentiary  was : 

1  Appointed  Superior,  Feb.  21,  1854. 


ISO  THE    SISTERHOOD  1848- 

1852.  I  keep  thinking  of  you  all,  and  when  I  find  a  chance  of 
advocating  your  cause.  ...  I  cannot  tell  you  with  what  pleasure 
I  think  of  our   common   work.     Difficult  and  discouraging  as 
it   is,    there   is   quite   enough   result,    and    more   than    enough 
promise,  to  cheer  us  on,  and  to  me  the  feeling  of  definiteness 
which  is  given  is  well  worth  almost  everything. 

1853.  We  visited  Wells  on  our  journey,  and  there  I  saw 
our   old   friend,   Ellen.  .  .  .  She   was   very   glad,  as   you   may 
suppose,  to  see  me,  and  I  thought  her  manner  and  appearance 
very  much  improved. 

1857.  Some  more  money  is  really  needful,  only  about  £3 
in  the  last  fortnight.  I  must  try  some  other  plan. 

1862.  I  should  like  to  do  more  at  the  Home ;  the  little 
I  see  of  the  girls  makes  me  long  to  look  after  them. 

1862,  Feb.  2.  Anniversary  of  the  opening  of  St.  Mary's 
Home.  This  gives  one  many  thoughts  of  great  thankfulness 
to  Him  who  has  so  mercifully  supported  and  blessed  our  work. 

And  in  1863,  in  his  deep  anxiety  to  further 
the  work,  and  to  strengthen  the  hands  of  the 
Sisters,  he  asked  his  beloved  and  revered  friend, 
Mr.  Keble,  to  preach  the  sermon  at  their  anniversary 
festival. 

W.  J.  B.  TO  REV.  J.  KEBLE. 

WANTAGE  VICARAGE,  Monday  in  Whitsun  Week,  1863. 

I  hope  that  you  will  not  think  me  very  troublesome  or 
impertinent  in  the  matter  of  this  letter. 

July  22,  St.  Mary  Magdalene's  day,  is  the  Anniversary  of  the 
Dedication  of  the  Chapel  of  St.  Mary's  Home,  and  we  keep 
it  every  year  as  the  Sisters'  Festival.  The  exterior  Sisters 
for  the  most  part  contrive  to  be  there,  and  a  few  friends  in 
the  town  and  neighbourhood  "assist"  on  the  occasion.  It 
would  be  a  very  great  help  to  us,  and  the  Sisters  would  consider 
it  as  an  exceeding  kindness  to  them,  if  you  could  preach  the 
sermon.  They  merely  want  a  few  words  of  encouragement 
from  friendly  lips — written  or  unwritten,  as  the  lips  prefer. 
Theirs  is  an  anxious  life,  and  they  value  most  highly  anything 
which  speaks  of  sympathy  and  recollection  of  them.  I  know 


1894  LETTERS   TO   REV.   J.    KEBLE  151 

that  I  am  asking  a  great  deal;  but,  as  I  said  at  first,  I  hope 
that  you  will  forgive  me  for  the  work's  sake.  We  are  all  very 

happy  here,  with  four  of  our  children  together  keeping  's 

sixteenth  birthday.  A.  has  come  from  Oxford,  where  he  is 
sojourning  and  reading  till  he  joins  Trinity  College,  Cambridge, 
in  October. 

W.  J.  B.  TO  REV.  J.  KEBLE. 

WANTAGE  VICARAGE,  May  31,  1863. 

We  are  most  thankful  to  be  able  to  think  of  your  coming 
amongst  us,  and  if,  quod  absit,  anything  should  hinder  you, 
we  will  do  the  best  we  can  to  rig  out  a  spar. 

I  take  it  for  granted  that  you  and  others  know  the  real 
mind  of  the  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer,1  and  certainly  nothing 
that  he  has  done  is  irreconcilable  with  true,  though  perhaps 
rather  stern,  filial  holding  to  the  Church.  I  suppose  that 
minds  cast,  like  his,  in  a  very  logical  mould,  find  an  especial 
difficulty  in  not  "  sticking  to  their  texts."  The  Bishop  defends 
him  heartily.  The  word  of  his  which  I  least  like,  though  I 
can  explain  it,  is  that  in  his  speech  in  the  Qualification  for 
Offices  Bill,  to  which,  by  the  way,  I  would  gladly  have  agreed, 
when  he  said  that  the  Church  had  nothing  to  fear  from  the 
attacks  of  Dissenters,  but  only  from  her  own  internal  differences. 
Of  course  taken  rigidly  this  is  quite  true,  but  it  looked  as 
though  in  his  opinion  Churchmen  were  to  do  nothing  to  meet 
the  fierce  efforts  of  the  enemy,  as  if  they  were  to  hold  the 
trowel  only  and  not  also  the  sword.  ...  I  have  sent  you 
a  couple  of  sermons,  preached  at  the  Dedication  of  the  chapel. 
Surely  of  all  practical  revivals  none  is  more  useful  than  that 
of  Sisterhoods. 

Also,  I  venture  to  send  you  an  Oratio  Procuratoria,  written 
by  a  very  great  friend  of  ours,  which  some  of  us  persuaded 
him  to  print.  We  think  it  a  very  pretty  bit  of  Latin. 

W.  J.  B.  TO  REV.  J.  KEBLE. 

WANTAGE  VICARAGE,  July  11,  1863. 

The  special  point  is,  I  think,  to  encourage  and  strengthen 
the    Sisters,    as    Sisters,    rather   than    as    connected    with    this 
particular  work  of  a  Penitentiary,  though  of  course  the  latter 
1  Right  Hon.  W.  E.  Gladstone. 


152  THE    SISTERHOOD  1848- 

would  come  in.  It  seems  to  me  that  in  these  days  of  "lower 
Empire"  luxury,  it  is  no  slight  matter  to  have  ladies  living 
together  and  "enduring  hardness."  It  is  a  witness  to  the 
Cross,  when  the  doctrine  of  the  Cross  is  all  but  dying  out. 
Could  it  not  be  shown  that  the  Church  has  recognised  the 
spirit  of  such  associations  from  very  early  times,  and  that 
Martha  and  Mary  have  both  their  place  ?  Then  would  it 
be  possible  to  touch  upon  the  dangers — so  opposite — which 
beset  each,  and  to  show  how  in  each  line — whether  in  the 
living  in  the  "world,"  or  in  the  Sisterhood,  singleness  of 
purpose  and  the  thought  implied  in  the  Collect  for  VI.  Sunday 
after  Trinity  would  keep  people  right  ?  Would  such  a  text 
as  Eccles.  iv.  9-1 2  do  1  This  is  merely  what  occurs  to  me 
in  answer  to  your  question,  and  I  hardly  venture  to  send  it. 
Pray  do  not  think  it  at  all  necessary  to  use  it.  We  shall 
be  only  too  thankful  for  whatever  you  may  kindly  say.  .  .  . 

We  must  now  trace  the  lines  laid  down  for 
the  guidance  of  the  infant  Community.  There  is 
no  doubt  that  an  active  Order  was  that  which 
had  commended  itself  to  William  Butler's  mind ; 
but  an  address  given  in  1849  shows  clearly  how, 
in  those  early  days,  he  was  not  only  desirous  of 
training  souls  for  the  Eeligious  life,  but  that  he 
was  willing,  should  it  be  the  leading  of  Divine 
Providence,  that  the  contemplative  life  should  have 
freedom  of  development. 

To  serve  is  Martha's  special  work,  to  contemplate  is  Mary's. 
Martha  provides  that  Mary  may  have  leisure  to  gaze.  Mary 
could  not  contemplate  did  not  Martha  serve.  Mary's  eye 
must  be  for  internal  things  if  Martha  cared  most  for  external. 
Martha  purchases,  arranges,  helps;  yet  had  she  that  in  her 
heart  which  she  rather  loves;  for  she  serves,  works,  buys, 
holds,  dispenses  for  the  love  of  Christ.  Hence  she  will  serve, 
and  from  morning  to  evening,  that  others  may  enjoy  His 
Beloved  Presence.  The  two  characters  form  a  perfect  whole. 
Each  may,  neither  need  fail. 


1 894  MARY  AND    MARTHA  153 

Martha  may  be  cumbered  about  much  serving,  Mary  may  sit 
at  His  feet  and  despise  her  sister.  Yet  while  Martha  serves 
for  the  love  of  Christ,  gladly  aiding  Mary,  whilst  Mary  sits 
for  the  love  of  Christ,  gladly  praying  for  Martha,  His  blessing 
is  on  each,  each  has  a  portion  of  the  blessing  of  the  other.  Mary 
has  chosen  that  good  part  which  shall  not  be  taken  away  from 
her.  Martha  has  served  Christ,  and  shall  follow  Him  where 
He  is,  "For  where  I  am,  there  shall  also  My  servant  be." 

Moreover  in  this  present  time  surely  Martha's  work  must 
be  the  fittest  preparation  for  Mary's.  Surely  it  is  hard  to 
leave  this  world  after  many  years  spent  therein,  suddenly  to 
renounce  that  increasing  activity  of  mind  and  body,  so  common 
in  this  generation ;  the  heart  languishes  for  want  of  that  to 
which  it  has  been  used,  the  sudden  revulsion  is  too  great, 
there  is  danger  of  formalism;  it  is  unnatural  to  take  up  a  life 
of  entire  prayer  and  contemplation  without  some  preparation, 
some  gradual  step-by-step  beginning.  Martha's  part  seems 
well  fitted  for  this.  Martha  loves  Christ,  is  in  His  Presence, 
sits  not  at  table,  but  serves.  What  next,  but  that  she  shall 
partake  of  the  fulness  of  joy  at  His  right  hand  1  She  is  doing 
the  very  part  of  Christ,  of  Him  Who  is  among  men  as  he 
that  serveth.  Has  He  not  said  of  such,  "He  shall  gird 
Himself,  and  make  them  to  sit  down  at  meat,  and  will  come 
forth  and  serve  them." 

But  one  thing  surely  is  needed  by  each ;  the  idea  of  con- 
stant service  .  .  .  the  Cross  of  Christ  is  grievous  to  those 
only  who  endure  it  not.  .  .  .  Seek  Martha's  work,  seek  Mary's 
work  if  you  will,  go  on  from  strength  to  strength,  but  look 
upon  yourselves  as  for  ever  set  apart,  and  the  world  as  crucified 
unto  you,  and  you  to  the  world. 

Rules  for  the  conduct  of  the  Community,  regulat- 
ing hours  of  prayer,  work,  recreation,  etc.,  were  drawn 
up  and  received  the  sanction  of  the  Bishop  of  Oxford 
in  the  early  days  of  its  existence ;  and  William 
Butler's  own  words,  written  at  no  great  length  of 
time  before  his  death,  show  the  solid  basis  on 
which  he  sought  to  build  it  up. 


154  THE    SISTERHOOD  1848- 

It  may  be  well  once  more  to  state  the  principle  on  which 
the  Community  of  St.  Mary  the  Virgin  is  based.  It  is  this — 
simple,  honest  loyalty  to  the  Church  to  which  it  belongs,  that  is 
the  Church  of  England,  the  Church  of  our  native  land.  We 
believe  that  the  Church  of  England  is  a  true  branch  of  Christ's 
Catholic  Church,  and  that  she  has  a  right  to  lay  down  for 
her  children  what  they  are  to  believe  and  to  do.  We  believe 
that  in  her  Prayer  Book  her  teaching  and  will  are  found.  We 
are  not  desirous  to  follow  our  own  fancies,  or  to  set  forth 
doctrines  and  ritual  which  belong  to  the  Church  of  Rome. 
We  are  satisfied  with  giving  dignity  and  beauty  to  that  which 
we  have  of  our  own.  We  wish  to  follow  in  the  steps  of 
those  great  men  who  heralded  the  great  Catholic  Revival  in 
the  Church  of  England,  and  who  never  "left  their  first  love," 
as  Dr.  Pusey,  Mr.  Keble,  Charles  Marriott,  Hugh  James  Rose, 
and  others  of  their  kind — men  who  combined  the  highest 
saintlinesss  of  character  with  deep  knowledge  of  theology, 
keen  appreciation  of  the  standpoint  of  the  Church,  and 
amplest  learning  and  scholarship. 

No  one  can  read  the  "  Oxford  Tracts "  without  finding 
himself  in  an  atmosphere  of  honest  Anglican  teaching  as 
different  as  possible  from  some  of  the  wild  talk  of  the  present 
day.  In  this,  by  God's  mercy,  although  it  may  not  fall  in 
with  some  modern  popular  notions,  we  hope  to  abide. 

But  everything  which  brought  out  great  principles 
and  added  beauty  and  dignity  to  the  worship  of 
God  he  allowed  in  the  chapels  of  the  Com- 
munity. Nothing  slovenly  or  tawdry  could  for  a 
moment  be  tolerated  by  him.  His  keen  eye  was 
sure  to  detect  the  least  flaw  in  the  minutest  detail. 
Everything  connected  with  the  service  of  the  altar, 
or  with  any  service  or  portion  of  the  House  of 
God  must  have  the  most  scrupulous  and  reverent 
care. 

The  thoroughness  which  he  looked  for  in  all  that 
was  connected  with  the  chapel  and  its  services  was 


1894  LAYING    FOUNDATIONS  155 

to  be  carried  into  every  detail  of  the  daily  routine. 
The  care,  the  orderliness,  the  love,  the  devotion  of 
the  Home  of  Nazareth  were  to  be  the  Sister's  pattern 
in  her  daily  duties.  Truly  he  could  have  said  with 
St.  Paul  that  the  foundation  he  had  sought  to  lay 
was  Jesus  Christ.  The  theme  of  the  Retreat 
addresses,  which  in  the  early  days  of  the  Community 
he  used  annually  to  give,  bore  most  frequently  on 
the  life  of  our  Holy  Redeemer,  and  in  these  medita- 
tions he  would  emphasise  the  first  principles  of  the 
Religious  Life,  Poverty,  Chastity,  and  Obedience, 
which  on  one  occasion  he  said  "  ought  to  be 
engraved  on  the  threshold  of  the  convent  door  as 
they  were  the  very  conditions  of  a  Religious 
Community." 

He  was  ever  careful  himself,  and  impressed  on 
those  who  co-operated  with  him  in  the  training  of 
souls  to  respect  the  individuality  of  each  one.  On 
one  occasion  he  wrote  :  "  We  must  enclose  all  kinds 
of  fishes  and  bring  them  into  God's  service,  toning 
down  yet  without  destroying  the  savour  of  the 
individuality."  No  one  knew  better  than  he  how 
to  allow  scope  for  the  enthusiasm  of  the  young 
and  ardent,  while  he  controlled  and  directed  it. 
And  in  all  that  he  counselled  and  ordered  he 
himself  set  an  example.  The  intense  reality  which 
the  spiritual  life  was  to  him,  and  the  training  and 
discipline  of  the  character  required  for  a  close 
following  in  the  footsteps  of  our  Divine  Master, 
was  that  which  made  his  teaching  ring  so  true,  and 
consequently  carry  with  it  such  weight.  The  lines 


156  THE   SISTERHOOD  1848- 

written  under  a  picture  of  our  Lord  bearing  His 
Cross,  which  hung  over  the  mantelpiece  in  his  study, 

"Lord,  my  life's  sole  object  be 
With  pure  heart  to  follow  Thee," 

were  not  only  the  aim  of  his  own  life,  but  that 
to  which  he  sought  to  lead  those  under  his 
training. 

Among  the  thirty-four  works1  in  the  hands  of  the 
Community  at  the  time  of  his  death,  nine  were  of 
the  nature  of  Penitentiary  work,  thirteen  were 
schools,  and  eight  were  in  connection  with  parochial 
work.  His  interest  in  the  various  works  of  the  Com- 
munity was  keen.  For  many  years  he  never  failed 
to  pay  annual  visits  to  his  foundations,  but  with 
the  increasing  demands  which  work  of  all  kinds 
made  upon  him,  he  was  not  able  in  latter  years  to 
observe  this  with  regularity.  It  was  his  rule  for 
some  years  to  write  to  all  the  heads  of  Branch 
Houses  at  Christmas  and  Easter  ;  and  he  was 
able  to  continue  his  Christmas  letters  to  the  end 
of  his  life. 

1  These  were :  at  Wantage,  the  Penitentiary  at  St.  Mary's 
Home,  St.  Michael's  Schools  for  Teachers  and  Industrial  Girls,  St. 
Mary's  and  St.  Katharine's  Schools  ;  at  Paddington,  St.  Anne's 
House,  St.  'Mary  Magdalene's  Home,  and  St.  Mary's  College ;  the 
House  of  St.  Mary  and  St.  John,  Kennington  ;  St.  James's  Home, 
Fulham  ;  St.  Matthias',  Earl's  Court ;  a  Home  for  Inebriates  at 
Spelthorne  ;  St.  Helena's  Home  for  discharged  female  prisoners,  at 
Baling  ;  in  the  Peterborough  Diocese,  St.  Mary's,  Ketton,  St. 
Mary  Magdalene's  and  St.  Anne's,  Leicester,  St.  Mary's,  Narborough ; 
the  Cornish  House  of  Mercy  at  Lostwithiel ;  St.  Peter's  Mission 
House,  Plymouth  ;  St.  Mark's  Mission  House,  New  Swindon  ;  the 
House  of  the  Holy  Rood  for  Incurables,  at  Worthing  ;  All  Saints' 
Mission  House,  Wigan ;  various  schools  and  orphanages  at  Poona, 
where  also  the  Sisters  have  charge  of  the  Sassoon  Hospital. 


1894  TRAINING  THE   TEACHERS  157 

With  regard  to  the  other  side  of  the  work,  the 
development  of  elementary  schools  under  the  gov- 
ernment system  necessitated  the  employment  of 
properly  certificated  teachers,  and  the  chief  educa- 
tional work  of  the  Community  henceforward  lay  in 
the  charge  of  St.  Michael's  Industrial  school,  into 
which  also  the  mistresses,  pupil  teachers,  and  moni- 
tors moved  in  1858,  and  in  carrying  on  the  "Middle 
school,"  which  provided  what  is  now  called  Second- 
ary Education.  At  the  end  of  1862  the  Vicar 
writes  : 

The  Middle  school  has  thriven  under  the  care  of  the  ladies 
of  the  Home.  I  have  some  anxiety  about  St.  Michael's,  which 
has  never  quite  satisfied  me.  I  had  good  hopes,  but  now 
illness  and  death  seem  to  shatter  all  plans,  and  it  is  difficult 
to  see  one  step  ahead. 

But  in  spite  of  many  difficulties  and  anxiety 
caused  by  several  outbreaks  of  typhoid  fever,  the 
work  steadily  advanced,  and  the  pupil  teachers 
for  many  years  entered  as  head  girls  into  Salisbury 
Training  College,  one  in  1860  appearing  as  first 
in  all  England. 

It  became,  however,  a  very  grave  question  whether 
the  house  which  seemed  so  admirably  suited  for 
educational  purposes  would  not  have  to  be  aband- 
oned. During  the  fifth  visitation  of  typhoid,  the 
subjoined  entry  was  made  by  the  Vicar. 

Feb.  4.  Illness  still  at  St.  Michael's.  Miss  Osborne,  after 
nursing  most  carefully  those  who  were  ill,  is  now  attacked 
herself.  This  house  is  a  matter  of  great  anxiety,  and  it  is 
very  difficult  to  see  what  is  right  to  be  done.  It  seems  pitiful 
to  give  it  up,  after  all  the  expense  it  has  cost,  and  all  the 


158  THE   SISTERHOOD  1848- 

benefits  it  seems  calculated  to  give,  and  yet  these  outbursts  of 
fever  thoroughly  paralyse  everything. 

Happily  with  improved  sanitary  arrangements  in 
the  town  and  school  this  was  the  last  outbreak  of 
fever,  and  the  entries  of  the  final  twelve  years  of 
the  Vicar's  incumbency  tell  a  tale  of  success  crowning 
the  faithful  persevering  and  prayerful  efforts  of 
his  earlier  years  at  Wantage.  Among  the  terse 
and  pithy  sayings  which  might  be  called  his  axioms, 
one  which  he  constantly  repeated  as  an  encourage- 
ment to  others  and  which  was  certainly  the  result 
of  his  own  experience,  was :  "  Prayer,  faith,  and 
grind  will  carry  most  things  through." 

So  the  work  was  prospered ;  and  when  he  resigned 
the  charge  of  Wantage,  the  schools  which  thirty- 
four  years  earlier  had  contained  thirty-six  children— 
twenty-four  boys  and  twelve  girls — had  increased 
to  over  750  scholars,  varying  in  age  from  three  to 
nineteen  or  twenty. 

Not  content  with  merely  supervising  the  labours 
of  others,  he  took  his  own  part  in  the  work  of 
education ;  and  as  early  as  1850  he  instituted  a 
daily  arithmetic  class  in  his  study,  from  eight  to 
nine  A.M.,  for  the  girl  pupil  teachers.  After  a  few 
years  he  changed  this  to  religious  instruction, 
choosing  a  subject  not  included  in  their  year's 
curriculum.  In  these  classes  he  went  most  minutely 
and  carefully  through  a  large  portion  of  the  Prayer 
Book  and  some  of  the  Epistles,  spending  a  year  or 
more  in  the  study  of  the  shorter  Epistles,  and  two  or 
three  years  over  the  longer  ones.  One  day  in  the 


1894  THE  VICAR   AS   A  TEACHER  159 

week  the  religious  instruction  was  set  aside  for  a 
perusal  of  the  Saturday  examination  papers,  an 
awe-inspiring  time  to  both  pupils  and  teachers,  and 
much  to  be  feared  by  any  one  who  had  been  idle 
over  her  week's  lessons.  Sometimes  he  would  vary 
the  usual  lesson  with  mental  arithmetic  or  the 
study  of  wrords,  drawing  out  the  reasoning 
powers  of  his  pupils,  and  making  them  answer 
intelligently,  accurately,  and  briskly.  The  stroke 
of  nine  was  a  signal  for  the  class  to  come  to  an 
end,  and  all  might  be  seen  hurrying  to  school  with 
the  Vicar  in  time  for  school  prayers,  which  began 
punctually  at  five  minutes  past  nine. 

His  educational  power  was  shown  by  his  methods 
of  training  those  under  his  care.  He  considered 
that  a  somewhat  dry  though  open  and  kind  manner 
best  marked  the  relation  between  teacher  and 
taught,  and  he  greatly  deprecated  any  approach 
to  petting  or  the  like  as  dangerous  in  lifting  in- 
dividuals out  of  their  class,  and  affording  a  stimulus 
to  vanity.  He  always  aimed  at  combining  strictness 
and  an  almost  stern  manner  with  kindliness  and 
geniality,  which  led  those  with  whom  he  dealt  to 
perceive  his  fatherly  heart,  and  to  turn  to  him  in 
difficulties  and  trials  with  confidence  and  trust. 
The  teachers  trained  in  his  schools  always  addressed 
him  as  "  sir,"  a  title  of  respect  which  he  deemed  due 
to  the  Vicar  of  the  parish.  He  considered  equality 
and  familiarity  in  manner  to  be  opposed  to  the 
spirit  of  the  Fifth  Commandment. 

In  his  visits  to  the  schools  his  keen  eye  instantly 


160  THE    SISTERHOOD  1848- 

perceived  want  of  method  or  care  in  any  department, 
and  he  was  as  quick  in  speaking  of  it  as  in  seeing 
it.  He  commented  as  fully  upon  the  needlework 
of  the  girls  and  of  the  pupil  teachers  as  on  their 
history  and  arithmetic  papers,  and  under  his  vigilant 
rule  there  was  no  possibility  of  any  continuance  of 
slovenly  work.  His  own  enthusiasm  and  devotion 
to  duty  inspired  his  teachers,  so  that  an  esprit  de 
corps  was  created  among  them  which,  even  when 
they  had  left  Wantage,  enabled  them  to  retain 
the  high  standard  which  he  had  set  before  them. 
"  Mak'  sikker  "  l  — make  sure — were  words  very 
frequently  on  the  Vicar's  lips,  and  he  impressed 
upon  his  teachers  never  to  believe  that  their  pupils 
knew  anything  unless  they  had  proved  for  them- 
selves that  they  did. 

The  high  standard  he  set  before  his  young  people, 
and  to  which  he  expected  them  to  rise,  made  them 
afraid  of  him  until  they  learnt  that  he  was  anxious 
to  encourage  all  honest  effort,  and  was  ready  to 
be  their  friend ;  then  a  deep  reverential  love  grew 
out  of  the  fear  he  first  inspired.  His  resourcefulness 
never  failed  him  in  finding  endless  ways  of  making 
his  teaching  attractive  and  of  encouraging  his  pupils  ; 
punishment  was  not  often  resorted  to,2  and  he  con- 

1  See  Tales  of  a  Grandfather,  vol.  i.,  chap.  viii. 

2  Once  when  he  was  showing  the  schools  to  a  friend  on  her  first 
visit  to  "Wantage  and  some  children  came  in  after  prayers  had  been 
read,  he  said  "You  see  those  silly  things,  they  have  come  late  and 
will  get  a  pat,  unless  you  beg  them  off  as  an  act  of  clemency  on 
your  first  visit."     She   said   "May   I,"  and  he   replied,  "Yes,  you 
may," — and  it  was  promptly  done. 


1894  TEACHERS   AND   CHILDREN  161 

stantly  impressed  upon  his  teachers  that  it  was 
some  defect  in  their  management  if  their  children 
required  punishment.  "  The  children  get  punished, 
but  the  teachers  deserve  it ;  the  children  get  the 
prizes,  but  the  teachers  earn  them,"  he  would  say. 

But  it  was  in  dealing  with  the  really  troublesome 
that  his  power  was  most  felt.  He  never  would  let 
them  pass  out  of  his  ken,  and  he  often  succeeded 
in  making  them  good  in  spite  of  themselves.  He 
believed  in  their  best,  and  made  them  believe  in 
it  also.  He  used  to  say,  "  If  people  will  not  do 
right,  you  must  make  it  more  unpleasant  for  them 
to  do  wrong  than  to  do  right " ;  and  thus  the 
difficult  and  troublesome  girl  found  it  the  happiest 
and  best  plan  to  follow  the  path  of  right. 

He  insisted  that  all  whom  he  taught  should  look 
him  straight  in  the  face.  One  week-day  evening 
when  he  was  preaching,  the  pupils  of  St.  Mary's 
school  failed  to  look  up  at  him.  Before  leaving 
the  pulpit  steps  he  called  the  Sister  in  charge  to 
him,  and  said  he  would  not  preach  to  "  tops  of 
pates." 

The  following  extract  from  a  letter  written  to 
one  in  charge  of  an  educational  work,  is  characteristic 
of  his  thoroughly  practical  mind  : 

I  cannot  too  earnestly  impress  on  those  who  have  the 
charge  of  bodies  the  importance  of  having  everything  super- 
eminently clean,  bright,  graceful.  I  am  quite  sure  that  the 
more  you  have  together  the  more  important  all  this  becomes. 
Food,  clothes,  bedding,  tubbing,  light,  air,  recreation,  work, 
all  need  careful  thinking  out  and  must  be  perfect ;  well  looked 
after  as  well  as  well  arranged  at  the  first.  Evil  creeps  in 


162  THE   SISTERHOOD  1848- 

insensibly,  unless  the  greatest  care  is  employed.  No  one  can 
be  trusted  by  the  head  of  the  house — what  is  everyone's  work 
needs  constant  looking  after  and  testing. 

His  love  went  out  to  the  children  in  all  the 
schools,  but  pre-eminently  to  the  young  teachers 
who  came  in  a  special  way  under  his  care  and 
training.  It  was  one  of  his  keenest  pleasures  to 
keep  up  a  knowledge  of  them  when  their  apprentice- 
ship was  completed,  to  hear  from  them  and  write 
to  them. 

In  his  journeyings  he  would  take  opportunities 
of  seeing  one  and  another,  if  his  work  took 
him  into  their  neighbourhood.  The  children  in 
the  first  class  of  the  National  schools  were  taught 
to  write  to  him  as  Vicar  of  the  parish  on  his 
birthday,  and  as  the  pupil  teachers  left  Wantage 
for  work  elsewhere  they,  too,  would  carry  on  the 
practice,  and  letters  flowed  in  to  him  from  many 
parts  of  the  world,  to  which  answers  were  always 
promptly  written.  He  greatly  valued  these  tokens 
of  grateful  affection.  "  No  one,"  he  wrote  on  one 
of  his  latter  birthdays,  "  who  is  not  like  me,  growing 
old,  can  appreciate  how  the  heart  clings  to  the  love 
of  loving  hearts.  Love  is  the  one  thing  which 
remains  when  all  earthly  work  and  hope  are  ended." 
And  not  only  his  former  pupil  teachers,  but  many 
others  who  had  been  trained  in  the  various  schools 
in  Wantage  were  wont  to  write  to  him  on  his 
birthday. 

In  answer  to  some  of  these  he  wrote  : 

Thank    you   heartily   for   remembering   my   birthday.     It   is 


1894  BIRTHDAY   GREETINGS  163 

very  delightful  to  me  now  that  I  have  withdrawn  myself  from 
parish  work,  and  from  the  close  connexion  with  lads  and  lasses, 
to  find  so  many  still  looking  upon  me  as  a  friend  and  pastor. 
You  would  have  been  amused  to  see  the  barrow  loads  of  letters, 
etc.,  which  greeted  me  on  the  morning  of  Feb.  10th. 

Time  is  rapidly  passing  with  me,  and  I  shall  soon  pass  with 
it,  and  the  wide  waters  of  Eternity  will  be  before  me.  I  trust 
that  I  may  be  ready  when  the  time  comes  for  that  call,  "Put 
thy  house  in  order,  for  thou  must  die  and  not  live."  It  is 
the  only  real  and  certain  thing.  If  that  goes  right,  then  all 
goes  right.  At  the  same  time  the  thought  of  it  need  not 
make  one  morbid  or  morose  or  dull  or  cheerless.  While  one 
lives  one  loves,  and  love  is  the  best  preparation  for  Heaven. 

LOWER  HOUSE  OF  CONVOCATION,  1885. 

I  am  writing  in  the  midst  of  talk  and  bustle,  but  I  must 
somehow  try  and  send  you  a  word  in  reply  to  your  very  kind 
memory  of  my  birthday.  .  .  .  Each  of  the  first  class  girls 
wrote  me  their  greetings,  all  well  written,  spelt,  and  expressed, 
and  full  of  Wantage  news.  .  .  . 

Little  gifts,  too,  from  any  of  his  former  pupils 
were  valued  and  referred  to  years  after  by  word  or 
letter.  "I  often  think  of  you,"  he  wrote  to  one 
of  the  old  pupils  of  the  Middle  school,  "when  I 
put  on  my  best  coat  which  always  carries  in  its 
pocket  the  Prayer  Book  and  little  cloth  case  you 
gave  me."  It  was  no  wonder  that  with  the  con- 
sciousness of  the  love  that  went  out  to  him  in 
response  to  his  pastoral  love  and  care  that  he  could 
write,  "  I  always  feel  when  I  leave  you  all  at 
Wantage  that  I  have  left  my  heart  behind.  .  .  . 
Wantage,  like  Calais  on  Queen  Mary's  heart,  is 
written  on  mine." 

A  former  pupil  of  St.  Mary's  school  writes : 

I  had  heard  a  good  deal  of  the  Vicar  of  Wantage  even  in 


164  THE   SISTERHOOD  1848- 

the  far  north,  but  not  until  February,  1876,  did  I  see  him. 
My  friend  and  I  called  at  the  vicarage,  and  after  some  con- 
versation the  Vicar  proposed  taking  us  over  the  National 
schools.  .  .  . 

I  spent  most  of  the  next  two  and  a  half  years  at  St.  Mary's 
school,  where  I  often  passed  the  vacation  too,  and  words 
would  fail  to  tell  of  the  home  and  happy  atmosphere  of  that 
wonderful  place,  all  emanating  from  the  Vicar,  for  his  influence 
told  in  every  department,  and  no  detail  of  the  work  or  character 
of  each  pupil  was  too  small  to  interest  him,  and  he  cared  the 
same  about  what  we  should  do  or  be  on  leaving  school.  At 
that  time  there  was  a  weekly  privilege  for  the  elder  girls,  viz. 
to  go  to  the  vicarage  on  Wednesday  afternoons  for  a  class  on 
St.  Matthew's  Gospel.  His  notes  were  so  exhaustive  that  they 
branched  out  in  every  direction,  and  were  given  in  his 
characteristic  bright  fashion.  With  all  the  extensive  duties 
of  his  daily  life,  the  Vicar  only  allowed  absence  from  home 
to  interfere  with  this  class.  Still  more  to  us  were  the  monthly 
Communicants'  classes.  ...  It  was  certainly  our  own  fault  if 
in  a  year  we  did  not  see  twelve  distinct  steps  in  the  ascending 
ladder. 

If  we  passed  public  examinations,  the  first  thing  was  to  go 
and  tell  the  Vicar.  And  then  what  interest  he  took  in  our 
games !  I  can  see  him  now  in  the  playground  watching 
our  favourite  "French  and  English,"  helping  us  to  put  our 
whole  hearts  into  it  by  his  cheering  interest  and  laughter.  .  .  . 
What  high  praise  it  was  to  hear  from  his  lips,  "She'll  do,"  or 
She's  no  goose,"  or  "There's  some  fun  in  her."  And  when 
school  days  were  over  he  never  forgot  his  pupils.  The  list  of 
their  names  which  always  stood  on  his  study  mantelpiece, 
was  graven  on  his  heart,  and  he  even  seemed  to  remember 
the  circumstances  of  each  one,  and  often  asked  us  about  one 
another  years  after  he  had  seen  some  of  us.  ... 

You  know  how  the  constant  wandering  incident  to  my  life 
made  many  gaps  and  long  intervals  in  my  seeing  the  Dean. 
But  his  welcome  and  interest  were  always  the  same.  As  time 
went  on  the  long  intervals  made  it  more  possible  to  see  a 
change  in  him :  physically,  the  greyer  hair,  the  slight  stoop, 
and  if  it  is  not  presumptuous  to  say  it,  the  ever-deepening 
beauty  of  the  expression  of  his  wonderful  face,  and  the  ever- 


1894  GRATIARUM   ACTIO  165 

nearing  closeness  of  his  "walk  with  God" — so  near  that  when  the 
end  came  there  was  not  far  to  go.  It  was  one  of  his  favourite 
expressions,  "To  walk  with  God." 

On  his  seventieth  birthday  the  teachers  trained 
and  training  at  St.  Michael's  gave  him  a  revolving 
bookcase,  which  delighted  him  greatly.  He  alluded 
to  the  gift  in  a  letter  to  the  Sister  in  charge  : 

I  need  not  say  how  deeply  and  gratefully  I  value  your 
kind  words  and  those  of  many  others  which  greeted  me  to-day. 
I  begin  to  think  that  the  best  and  brightest  examples  of 
good  women,  simple,  affectionate,  true,  pure-minded,  devoted 
to  their  duties,  are  to  be  found  in  the  class  of  school 
mistresses — certainly  taken  one  with  another  I  know  of  no- 
thing better  than  our  girls.  I  do  not  mean  that  they  are 
faultless,  but  they  show  what  honest  living  is,  and  what  true 
women's  work  is.  ...  The  circulating  library  stand  is 
delightful.  It  is  what  I  have  longed  for  and  never  hoped  to 
have.  It  will  be  useful  too  to  others  when  my  short  span  is 
ended.  I  mean  to  have  a  brass  plate  on  the  top  with  all  the 
names  engraved  upon  it  which  you  have  sent  me.  I  must 
try  and  write  a  line  of  thanks  to  them  all. 

He  sent  to  each  donor  a  copy  of  a  sonnet : 

GRATIARUM  ACTIO. 

Much  loved  and  loving  Friends,  in  joy  I  greet 
Your  kindly  gift,  with  precious  memories  fraught 

Of  long  past  hours,  wherein  in  converse  sweet 
We  sought  with  ardent  effort — teacher,  taught, — 

To  search  the  depths  of  that  great  Book,  whose  lore 
Is  the  great  joy  of  souls,  which  to  have  known 

Is  wealth  far  richer  than  the  golden  store 
Or  all  the  treasures  that  in  earth  are  sown: 

Gird  you  then  well  with  this— "fight  Faith's  good  fight- 
Quit  you  like  men — be  strong" — in  faithless  days 


166  THE    SISTERHOOD  1848- 

Hold  fast  the  Truth;  in  darkness  be  the  light; 

Defend  Christ's  Bride,  the  Church ;  Christ's  Standard  raise 
Howe'er  the  world  may  scoff;  and  in  His  might 

Guide  on  His  little  Flock  to  love  and  praise. 

Like  other  founders  of  Religious  Orders,  William 
Butler  recognised  the  importance  of  associating  with 
the  Sisters  earnest-minded  people,  both  men  and 
women,  who,  while  living  in  the  world,  should 
yet  be  glad  to  undertake  some  portion  of  the 
burden  of  maintaining  the  charitable  works  in  which 
the  Community  was  engaged.  The  first  name  on 
the  list  of  exterior  Sisters,  a  roll  which  now  numbers 
several  hundreds,  is  that  of  Mrs.  Butler,  who  all 
her  life  not  only  took  a  keen  interest  in  the  wel- 
fare of  the  Community,  but  for  many  years  acted 
as  treasurer  of  the  Penitentiary  funds.  Not  only 
were  the  original  infirmary  wing  and  the  embroidery 
room  the  gifts  of  an  exterior  Sister,  but  the 
embroidery  work  itself  was  started  by  exterior 
Sisters  living  in  the  w^orld  who  desired  to  add  to 
the  funds  for  the  support  of  the  Penitentiary 
work  : 

"It  is  impossible  to  say,"  wrote  Dean  Butler  in  one  of  his 
annual  letters  to  the  associates  of  the  Community,  "how  much 
you  and  others  have  given  us  of  comfort  and  support.  With- 
out your  ready  help  we  should  indeed  feel  weak  and  lonely. 
As  it  is  we  have  the  happiness  of  being  surrounded  by  a  very 
atmosphere  of  prayer  and  affection,  rising  up  from  many 
hearts  and  lips  in  nearly  all  parts  of  the  world.  We  can 
only  in  return  assure  you  that  your  efforts  are  not  wasted. 
They  are  expended  on  Christ's  little  ones,  Christ's  poor  lost 
sheep,  those  heathen  for  whom  as  well  as  for  us  Christ  died; 
and  you  will  receive,  it  cannot  be  doubted,  the  reward  in  the 
resurrection  of  the  just." 


1894  'A   DANGEROUS    MAN'  167 

He  naturally  made  acquaintance  with  any  who 
were  staying  at  the  Home,  and  such  acquaintance 
often  ripened  into  friendship.  In  the  early  days  of 
the  Community  a  lady  travelling  on  the  G.W.R.  on 
her  first  journey  to  St.  Mary's  Home  met  a  fellow- 
traveller  who,  finding  out  her  destination,  talked 
much  of  Mr.  Butler,  and  warned  her  to  beware  of 
him  and  his  religious  opinions,  for  "  he  was  a  very 
dangerous  man."  Afterwards,  when  the  lady  became 
well  acquainted  with  the  Vicar,  he  heard  the 
story,  and  when  she  left  the  Home  he  presented 
her  with  a  copy  of  his  Sermons  for  Working  Men, 
having  written  below  her  name,  "  from  a  dangerous 
man." 

His  advice  and  sympathy  were  always  ready  for 
those  who  sought  them,  and  in  latter  years  he 
helped  many  associates  by  annually  conducting  a 
Retreat  for  them,  which  work  he  continued  till  the 
last  year  of  his  life. 

One  who  attended    several  of  these  says : 

There  were  one  or  two  special  marks  of  his  teaching  in 
Retreats. 

1.  It  was  so  bracing,  and  it  made  one  return  to  one's  duties 
in  the  world  with  a  steady  determination  to  go  out  and  carry 
on  bravely  the  Christian  warfare. 

2.  It  was  essentially  practical.      It  was  to  be  the  doing  the 
will  of  God,  feelings  were  nothing;  the  text  was,  "If  ye  love 
Me,  keep  My  commandments." 

Fresh  resolutions  were  to  be  put  in  practice  at  once — they 
were  to  be  something  very  simple,  something  one  could  set 
up  in  one's  heart,  which  would  stand  firm,  strong,  untouched, 
and  which  one  could  bear  with  one  to  the  grave. 

3.  Always,  but  especially  in   his   three  last  Retreats,  there 


i68  THE   SISTERHOOD  1848- 

was  strong  teaching  on  the  Church,  and  loyalty  to  the  Prayer 
Book.  Religion  was  set  up  before  us  as  a  strong  stern  thing, 
and  what  we  had  to  do  was  to  strive  after  honest  simple 
obedience  to  rule — not  self-pleasing,  but  endeavouring  in  all 
things  to  do  what  pleased  God. 

4.  His  high  ideal  of  woman's  work,   viz.   the  calming,  puri- 
fying, and  elevating  of  society.     He  impressed  upon  his  hearers, 
that  to  woman  belongs  the  formation  of  the  character  of  all 
around  her,  her  children,   her  servants,   etc.      On  woman  also 
depends  in  a  very  great   degree   the  whole   happiness   of   the 
circle   in  which   she   lives,  and  on  her  far  more  than  on  the 
man   depends  the  spiritual  life  of  the  family.      He  unhesitat- 
ingly asserted  that  if  society  is  corrupt,  then  it  is  the  woman's 
fault.     Man  may  tempt,  but  it  is  for  the  woman  to  be  faithful 
and  firm,  and  by  her  faithfulness  she  will  help  man  to  mend 
his  ways,  and  lead  him  on  in  all  that  is  holy  and  pure  and  good. 

5.  The  Bible  knowledge  gained.      This  was  a  very  distinct 
feature,  and  one  always  went  forth  from  his  Retreats  with  a 
sense  that  one  had  made  several  strides  forward  in  the  know- 
ledge of  the  Bible. 

Lastly,  cheerfulness,  hopefulness,  faithfulness,  was  the  last 
word  to  us  as  we  were  about  to  go  out  of  Retreat. 

Another  associate  writes  : 

The  notice  of  what  proved  to  be  his  last  Retreat  for  the 
associates  at  the  Home  reached  me  in  Florence.  I  had  never 
before  been  free  to  attend  one,  so  I  arranged  my  journey  at 
once  and  set  off,  arriving  in  time  for  one  of  the  most  helpful 
few  days  of  my  life.  The  depth  and  yet  the  simplicity  of 
the  addresses,  and  the  wonderfully  beautiful  prayers  at  the 
end  of  each,  can  be  known  only  to  those  who  heard  them,  for 
it  was  always  the  way  he  said  things  as  much  as  what  he 
said  that  was  so  impressive.  Busy  as  he  was  up  to  literally 
the  last  moment,  he  found  time  for  a  few  minutes  conversa- 
tion at  the  end  of  the  Retreat.  He  was  standing — one  foot 
on  a  chair — all  ready  to  go  away,  quite  worn  out,  but  bright 
and  interested  as  usual.  I  told  him  my  special  trouble,  and 

it  was  indeed  perplexing.      His  answer  was,   "My  dear  , 

pray  about  it ! "  And  these,  his  last  words,  will  suit  every 
time,  every  place,  every  circumstance. 


1894  FIAT  VOLUNTAS   TUA  169 

His  training,  writes  another,  was  bracing,  and  I  think  I  might 
venture  to  say  that  the  distinctive  notes  of  most  of  those  who 
were  formed  under  his  guidance  are  cheerfulness  and  common 
sense.  He  always  set  himself  against  any  kind  of  morbid 
melancholy,  or  even  any  that  was  not  morbid.  He  would  not 
have  people  ever  brood  over  grief,  or  go  on  sorrowing  for 
what  was  irremediable.  "  It  is  no  use  crying  over  spilt  milk  " 
was  one  of  his  oft-repeated  sayings ;  another,  "  Je  pleure  mon 
Albert  gaiement,"  the  words  of  Alexandrine  de  la  Ferronays.1 
He  could  sympathise  most  tenderly  with  sorrow  in  the  first 
instance,  but  he  could  say  something  sharp  if  the  sorrow  was 
prolonged  beyond  what  he  thought  right  and  reasonable.  He 
set  himself  against  moodiness  or  depression,  or  the  sort  of 
melancholy  in  which  young  women  sometimes  indulge  about 
not  being  understood,  not  being  sympathised  with,  and  so  forth. 
Indeed  he  gave  no  quarter  to  any  sort  of  sentimentality  what- 
ever.  He  was  very  encouraging  to  those  who  were  willing  to 
do  their  best,  but  were  discouraged  by  failures.  His  sense  of 
humour  came  into  his  training,  and  he  did  not  hesitate  to  use 
a  grotesque  word  or  ludicrous  illustration  where  it  expressed 
his  meaning,  or  was  likely  to  impress  it  on  the  mind  of  his 
hearer. 

His  continual  teaching  was  the  acceptance  of  God's  will  in 
all  things,  and  at  all  times.  "  Let  '  Thy  will  be  done '  be  your 
moral  tonic."  When  he  received  a  telegram  summoning  him 
home  on  account  of  sudden  and  serious  illness,  he  said,  "  There 
is  nothing  for  it  but  what  I  am  always  saying  to  you  all* 
'Fiat  voluntas  Tua.'"  .  .  .  Those  who  did  not  know  him 
intimately  could  have  no  idea  of  his  great  tenderness  of  heart. 
In  real  trouble,  real  difficulty,  real  sorrow,  he  was  ever  ready, 
and  one  never  went  away  empty. 

The  understanding  he  had  about  illness  or  weak  health  was 
sometimes  almost  unexpectedly  striking,  and  especially  so  the 
last  three  years  before  his  death.  He  was  so  hard  upon  himself 
that  one  was  surprised  at  the  way  in  which  he  entered  into 
the  difficulties  of  bodily  weakness,  but  he  did  so  to  a  very  mar- 
vellous extent.  And  when  he  advised  laxity  for  a  time,  one 
felt  one  could  trust  him  because  he  was  so  hard  and  self-denying 
himself.  In  one  of  his  last  conversations  he  deplored  the  laxity 
1  R6dt  d'une  Sceur,  par  Mme-  Augustus  Craven,  vol.  ii.,  p.  385. 


i?o  THE   SISTERHOOD  1848- 

of  the  present  age  as  compared  with  the  times  of  Keble,  Pusey, 
Marriott,  etc.,  and  quoted  the  texts,  "  Endure  hardness,  as  a 
good  soldier  of  Jesus  Christ,"  "  When  Jeshurun  waxed  fat  he 
kicked."  .  .  .  He  always  tried  to  develop  individual  tastes 
in  those  under  his  training  by  suggesting  books  and  employ- 
ments suited  to  them.  His  whole  life  was  full  of  thought  and 
care  for  others  ;  such  little  matters  as  a  careful  and  prompt 
answer  to  every  letter  were  never  overlooked  by  him. 

Another  writes  : 

I  think  it  was  the  combination  of  holiness  and  love  in  the 
character  of  the  late  Dean  of  Lincoln  which  attracted  people  to 
him.  When  I  first  knew  him,  more  than  twenty  years  ago,  I 
was  more  struck  by  his  brilliant  gifts  of  conversation,  his  acute 
eager  concentration  of  mind  on  argument,  and  the  sense  of 
controlled  power,  which  was  evident  to  any  one  who  was  in  his 
society ;  but  the  better  I  came  to  understand  him,  the  deeper 
became  the  impression  of  his  great  personal  holiness.  He  was 
quite  unconscious  of  the  effect  it  produced,  he  never  seemed  to 
think  at  all  about  himself  in  his  intercourse  with  others,  his  sole 
desire  was  to  make  them  good  and  happy  servants  of  God. 
His  own  life  had  been  devoted  to  his  Creator  from  early  man- 
hood, and  he  was  able  "  with  a  heart  at  leisure  from  itself"  to 
throw  his  whole  energy  into  setting  forth  the  glory  of  his  Master, 
and  exhibiting  as  fully  as  possible  the  method  of  the  English 
Church  for  winning  souls.  His  standard  for  himself  and  others 
was  a  high  one — to  attain  it  meant  giving  up  a  good  deal,  but  then 
he  was  so  certain  of  ultimate  peace  and  consolation,  that  it  gave 
courage  and  hope ;  he  always  braced,  never  depressed  the  heart. 
The  Presence  of  God  ruled  his  life,  and  especially  his  intercourse 
with  others ;  this  prevented  all  '  sentiment,'  or  dwelling  upon  his 
personal  sympathy  (tender  and  deep  as  it  was),  and  raised  the 
soul  nearer  to  the  source  of  all  love  and  pity. 

I  was  going  through  a  great  spiritual  crisis  during  part  of  the 
time  we  were  friends,  and  was  led  to  consult  him,  not  in  the  way 
that  many  persons  did,  in  confession,  but  as  an  adviser.  As  soon 
as  he  realised  that  my  doubts  were  real  and  not  affected,  he  took 
me  in  hand,  and  with  the  most  touching  patience  and  unfailing 
kindness  helped  me ;  he  wrote  constantly,  entered  into  every 
difficulty,  and  guided  me  till,  after  some  years,  the  light  came. 


1894  ADVICE   TO   ONE   IN    DOUBT  171 

The  only  rule  he  gave  was  "Persevere,  live  exactly  as  if  you 
believed."  The  clearness  and  strength  of  his  faith  of  course 
steadied  mine.  I  will  copy  here  a  prayer  he  sent  me,  which 
probably  he  used  in  the  case  of  others.  "Almighty  God,  in 
Whom  our  fathers  hoped  and  were  delivered,  and  put  their  trust 
and  were  not  confounded,  have  mercy  upon  me  Thy  much  tried 
and  troubled  child  and  servant,  and  help  me  to  find  peace  and 
rest.  Remove  from  me  (if  it  seem  good  to  Thee)  the  cloud  of 
doiibt  and  distrust  which  oppresses  me ;  open  my  heart  to  faith 
and  hope  and  love ;  teach  me  to  know  Thee  Who  and  as  Thou  art ; 
and  if  it  seem  good  to  Thee  that  even  through  my  whole  earthly 
pilgrimage  I  should  never  pass  from  darkness  and  sorrow  into 
light  and  joy,  do  Thou  Thyself  hold  me  fast  to  Thee,  and  bring  me 
at  last  to  the  glorious  vision  of  Thy  brightness  and  glory,  where 
Faith  and  Hope  can  no  longer  totter,  nor  Love  fail;  through 
Jesus  Christ  our  Lord.  Amen." 

It  is  quite  impossible  to  describe  his  sympathy.  He  always 
prayed  for  his  friends,  and  I  recollect  his  saying  once  of  some 
one  who  had  died,  "  Forget !  how  could  I  forget  1  When  one 
prayed  twice  a  day  for  him  for  years.  Now,  I  shall  only  put  him 
the  other  side  of  my  prayers."  This  habit  kept  his  interest  warm 
and  keen,  and  to  the  end  of  his  life  he  never  omitted  writing  in 
every  crisis  of  joy  or  sorrow  that  came  to  me  or  mine.  We 
talked  a  great  deal — of  many  things,  his  and  my  work — but  he 
never  dwelt  upon  the  former,  except  in  connection  with  the 
Sisters,  or  those  who  carried  on  the  many  branches  he  had 
originated  at  Wantag  eand  elsewhere.  One  letter  mentioned  his 
thankful  joy  at  having  been  spared  to  communicate  in  the  church 
of  his  baptism  (St.  Marylebone).  I  fancy  he  had  not  been  in  it 
for  seventy  years.  His  joyous  nature,  the  ceaseless  activity  of 
his  life,  his  tender  compassionate  sympathy,  his  strong  will 
subdued  by  God,  have  ended  as  far  as  this  world  is  concerned  ; 
but  he  is  nearer  than  ever  to  the  everlasting  Love  and  Purity  of 
his  Lord. 

The  increased  distance  from  Wantage  of  his  home, 
first  at  Worcester  and  then  at  Lincoln,  together 
with  his  advancing  years,  made  him  consider  the 
question  of  laying  down  some  portion  of  his  charge ; 


172  THE   SISTERHOOD  1848- 

but  happily  he  was  never  called  upon  to  decide 
which  of  those  many  interests,  so  dear  to  him,  he 
should  let  go.  It  was  his  desire  to  retain  his 
relations  to  the  Community  which  he  said  was 
dearer  to  him  than  his  own  life,  as  long  as  his 
life  was  spared ;  but  it  was  this  work  which  specially 
taxed  his  strength  during  his  latter  years,  and 
made  him  consider  seriously  during  the  last  few 
months  of  his  life  whether  he  could  continue  the 
burden  of  it,  and  the  very  frequent  and  long 
journeys  which  it  involved ;  for,  except  at  the  time 
of  his  annual  holiday,  he  seldom  let  more  than 
three  weeks  pass  without  being  at  Wantage.  While 
he  was  there  in  November,  1893,  the  Archbishop 
of  Canterbury  (Dr.  Benson),  who  was  staying  in 
the  neighbourhood,  came  to  see  St.  Mary's  Home. 
It  occasioned  deep  joy  to  the  founder  that  the  work 
he  had  so  lovingly  reared  to  the  glory  of  God 
should  receive  the  blessing  of  the  head  of  the 
English  Church,  and  it  was,  as  it  were,  the  placing 
of  the  last  stone  on  the  edifice  he  had  been  instru- 
mental in  rearing.  The  Archbishop  alluded  to  his 
own  pleasure  in  a  note  he  wrote  to  the  Dean 
shortly  after:.  "What  a  welcome  at  Wantage,  and 
what  a  gift  to  light  on  you  there." 

One  more  visit  in  Advent  which,  at  the  time,  im- 
pressed some  with  a  feeling  as  of  a  farewell,  and 
Christmas  letters  interchanged — (loving  words  to  the 
Sisters  in  India  were  among  the  last  he  wrote)-— 
brought  his  earthly  work  for  the  Community  to 
a  close.  In  the  words  of  the  Bishop  of  Lincoln  : 


1894  THE   WORK   LAID    DOWN  I?3 

"At  his  Lord's  command  he  had  worked,  at  his 
Lord's  command  he  was  ready  to  die.  He  had  not 
striven  to  win  souls  to  himself  but  to  Christ,  and 
to  Him,  without  one  single  word  of  fear  or  anxiety, 
he  resigned  all  that  mysterious  spiritual  work  in 
which  for  so  many  years  he  had  been  ceaselessly 
engaged." 


CHAPTER   VI. 

REMINISCENCES  BY  EEV.  V.  S.  S.  COLES.1 

MY  first  sight  of  my  future  Vicar  was  at  Eton  in  1858 
or  1859.  He  used  to  visit  his  son,  who  was  older, 
and  three  divisions  higher  in  school,  than  I  was.  I 
remember  well  the  first  time  I  saw  him  walking 
quickly  along  past  Williams'  shop.  I  think  I  must 
have  been  told  already  that  "Butler  at  Balston's"  was 
the  son  of  the  Vicar  of  Wantage,  but  I  am  not  sure 
that  I  knew  even  as  much  as  that.  At  any  rate  his 
appearance  struck  me  as  different  from  that  of  any  of 
the  High  Church  clergy  I  had  seen  before,  such  as 
Archdeacon  Denison  and  Mr.  Carter.  He  was  much 
more  like  the  ideal  I  had  formed  of  a  mediaeval  or 
foreign  ecclesiastic,  and  seemed  to  embody  those 
vague  possibilities  of  what  was  hidden  in  the  English 
Prayer  Book,  which  were  so  attractive  to  many  young 
people  at  that  time.  I  had  a  good  look  at  him  soon 
after,  during  some  lecture  at  which  he  was  present  in 
the  Mathematical  School,  and  then,  as  I  watched  the 
eager,  active  play  of  his  face  and  lips,  and  the  restless 
(not  to  say  dangerous)  swing  of  his  foot,  a  certain  fear 

1  Various  illustrative  letters,  etc.,  have  been  inserted  in  this  narra- 
tive.    These  interpolations  are  marked  by  brackets. 


1864  EARLY   VISITS   TO   WANTAGE 


'75 


began  to  be  mixed  with  the  unique  attractiveness 
which  he  inspired. 

Both  feelings  remain  still,  the  sense  that  there 
never  was  any  one  quite  like  him,  and  the  conviction 
that  his  displeasure  was  a  serious  thing  to  reckon 
with  ;  though  from  a  date  not  much  later  than  1858 
they  have  been  united  with  grateful  affection. 

When  I  went  up  to  Oxford  in  1864,  my  friend, 
Montague  Noel,  was  just  moving  to  Wantage  from 
his  first  curacy.1  The  Vicar  encouraged  him  to  ask 
his  undergraduate  friends  to  Wantage,  and  he  was  the 
more  disposed  to  take  a  kindly  interest  in  me,  because 
I  was  a  pupil  of  James  Kiddell,  who  had  prepared 
him  to  see  a  "  clumsy  Christian."  A  third  link  with 
Wantage  was  found  for  me  in  Father  S.  W.  O'Neill. 
I  had  been  "up  to "  him  in  school  at  a  time  when,  as 
a  deacon,  he  was  still  in  the  Windsor  rifle  corps,  and 
before  his  title  at  Clewer  had  brought  him  into 
contact  with  the  Catholic  teaching  which  he  at  once 
assimilated.  Part  of  the  time  between  his  resignation 
of  his  Mathematical  Mastership  at  Eton  and  his 
admission  to  the  Cowley  Society,  was  spent  by  him 
as  Curate  of  Wantage,  and  surely  it  is  not  the  least 

I1  Extract  from  a  letter  to  Rev.  M.  H.  Noel,  from  Rev.  H.  P. 
Liddon,  dated  16th  Sunday  after  Trinity,  1865  :— "  What  you  say 
about  the  Vicar  delights  me.  It  is  precisely  my  own  feeling  ;  after  a 
lapse  of  eleven  years  I  look  back  to  my  curate  life  at  Wantage  with 
the  most  genuine  pleasure,  as  to  a  time  when,  in  the  best  sense  of  the 
term,  the  sun  was  shining.  You  will  gather  up  a  great  deal  of 
spiritual  and  practical  experience  to  make  use  of  in  after  life.  .  .  . 
But  much  of  the  benefit  of  contact  with  a  good  man  cannot  be  reduced 
to  writing  :  it  is  the  insensible  though  real  action  of  spirit  and 
character  of  which  we  can  only  measure  the  drift  and  power  after 
some  considerable  lapse  of  time."] 


176         REMINISCENCES   BY   REV.   V.  S.  S.   COLES        1864 

of  the  blessings  which  came  to  Wantage  with  the 
Vicar  that  it  should  have  a  share  in  the  memories, 
experiences,  and  prayers  of  so  simple  and  devoted  a 
saint  as  Simeon  Wilberforce  O'Neill. 

What  struck  me  most  in  the  parish  when  I  was  at 
last  able  to  see  it  ?  I  am  bound  to  say  that  I  was 
much  more  ready  than  I  ought  to  have  been  to  criti- 
cise as  well  as  admire  what  I  saw.  It  was  Noel's 
mission  to  "  bring  things  on,"  and  my  sympathies 
were  entirely  with  him.  Even  then  (and  much  more 
now),  the  Vicar's  power  of  using  an  enthusiasm  which 
he  controlled  while  he  used  it,  seemed  to  me  very 
remarkable.  He  always  appreciated  Noel's  character  ; 
and  indeed  the  special  work  which  St.  Barnabas  has 
done  in  Oxford  owes  very  much  to  his  Wantage 
training.  In  return,  it  may  be  noted,  that  in  later 
days,  when  the  Dean  was  far  from  pleased  with  the 
Ritualists,  he  was  always  willing  to  preach  at  St. 
Barnabas,  and  always  remained  a  warm  friend  and 
helper  to  Noel.1 

[*On  Sept.  22nd,  1877,  the  Vicar  wrote  to  Kev.  M.  H.  Noel  recom- 
mending the  avoiding  of  things  "  needlessly  irritating,"  and  added  : 
"  We  do  not  enough  realise  the  tremendous  task  which  we  have  set 
ourselves,  viz.  to  deprotestantise  a  nation — practically  unbelieving, 
which  instinctively  feels  that  Protestantism  is  like  itself,  and  therefore 
makes  it  its  religion."  On  April  26th,  1892,  he  wrote  :  "  I  am 
delighted  to  hear  how  well  things  go  with  you.  But  you  really 
deserve  that  they  should  go  well,  and  you  take  the  right  way  of 
making  them  go  well.  My  three  rules  of  Faith,  Prayer,  and  Grind, 
are  yours  also,  and  they  always,  so  far  as  I  have  seen,  succeed.  .  .  . 
I  have  marked  October  23rd  to  preach."  And  on  August  18th,  1893 
in  answer  to  a  request  for  a  sermon  at  the  Dedication  Festival  : 
"  Alas  !  I  have  not  got  a  single  day  in  October  which  is  not  filled  with 
some  tormenting  engagement.  I  quite  dread  the  thought  of  it,  and 
wish  that  it  were  well  over.  I  am  always  thinking  of  solve  senescentem 


1864  REVERENCE   RATHER   THAN  RITUAL  177 

It  was  then  partly  as  a  critic  that  I  arrived  at 
Wantage,  and  my  contribution  to  the  facts  which  will 
give  a  picture  of  the  Vicar's  life  is  that  in  spite  of  my 
undisciplined  desires  for  what  "Wantage  did  not  give, 
it  was  simply  impossible  to  resist  the  fascination  of 
the  Vicar's  strength  and  thoroughness.  Moreover, 
though  desires  for  coloured  stoles  and  other  luxuries 
were  repressed,  we  knew  well  enough  that  the  Vicar 
was  taking  pains  not  to  give  scandal  to  the  Wantage 
people,  and  that  at  the  Home  he  was  always  on  the 
side  of  development. 

His  thoroughness  went  into  everything.  He  could 
pass  by  things  which  he  felt  did  not  concern  his  work 
and  duty,  when  weaker  men  would  have  felt  con- 
strained to  touch  them  ineffectually,  but  what  he  did 
touch  he  dealt  with  thoroughly.  Though  there  was 
little  show  of  ritual,  the  changes  and  improvements 
all  pointed  straight  to  great  principles.  The  chalices, 
patens,  and  altar-linen  were  all  accurately  and  fully 
cared  for.  After  Holy  Communion,  a  Thanksgiving 
was  always  said  in  the  vestry,  which  included  the 
great  prayer  of  St.  Thomas  Aquinas,  Gratias  Tibi 
ago.  While  other  people  were  introducing  lights  and 
vestments,  the  Vicar  of  Wantage  bore  an  almost  more 
striking  witness  to  the  Keal  Presence,  by  the  pro- 
vision of  the  white  houselling-cloth  laid  along  the 

equum ;  but  no  one  else  seems  to  think  of  it,  and  I  have  to  keep  trudg- 
ing on,  with  everybody's  packs  on  my  back.  I  always  enjoy  a  visit  to 
Oxford  and  St.  Barnabas,  though  the  thought  of  dear  Freeling  being 
no  more  with  us  makes  me  sad.  No  one  has  done  better  for  the 
Church  than  you.  I  cannot  say  how  much  I  admire  your  steady, 
unflinching  work."] 

M 


178  REMINISCENCES  BY  REV.  V.  S.  S.  COLES         1864 

altar-step  at  all  large  Communions.  The  Daily 
Service  was  sung  with  severe  adherence  to  Plain-song, 
not  only  for  the  psalms,  but  on  week-days  for  the 
hymns  also,  which  were  taken  invariably  from  the 
Hymnal  Noted. 

I  need  hardly  add  that  the  moral  severity,  the 
appeal  to  the  gospel  pattern  of  life,  which  Dean 
Church  tells  us  had  so  much  to  do  with  the  motive  of 
the  Oxford  Movement,  had  laid  its  sacred  mark  upon 
William  Butler  and  his  home.  Early  rising  never 
laid  aside,  is  always  impressive  to  lads,  to  whom  it  is 
always  difficult,  and  the  wonderful  arrangements  of 
the  first  hours  of  the  Vicar's  day  were  more  than 
surprising.  Before  ten  o'clock  matins  he  had  said 
his  prayers,  often  been  at  the  altar  either  of  the 
Home  or  the  parish  church,  taken  a  class  of  pupil 
teachers,  said  Terce  with  his  own  household,  and  done 
a  good  deal  towards  dealing  with  the  day's  letters. 
I  can  hardly  explain  how  it  was,  but  he  was  the  only 
man  whom  I  remember  to  have  said  the  Offices  as 
quickly  as  he  did  without  irreverence.  I  suppose  it 
was  that  you  felt  he  was  not  hurrying  for  any  reason 
except  to  get  more  time  for  other  things  done  unques- 
tionably for  the  glory  of  God.  Other  good  men  have 
given  an  example  of  reverence,  but  his  example  of  it 
was  special  in  that  he  was  so  truly  human  in  all  his 
talk  and  ways.  His  stories,  even  when  they  were 
almost  avowedly  repeated  again  and  again,  convulsed 
us  all,  with  the  best  possible  conscience ;  he  could 
turn  from  business,  discussion,  playfulness,  to  say 
prayers  without  any  loss  of  dignity  to  himself  or  the 


1 864  A   LENTEN   GRACE  179 

supreme  cause  which  he  always  represented.  Prayer, 
though  his  utterance  was  alert,  quick,  bracing,  to 
those  whom  he  led,  always  entailed  a  real  sacrifice  of 
time  and  energy.  Matins  and  evensong  could  never, 
I  think,  have  been  omitted,  though  sometimes  the 
pauses  between  the  departure  of  one  penitent  and  the 
entrance  of  another,  when  he  was  hearing  confessions, 
were  thus  utilised.  His  well-worn  Bible  and  his 
Latin  Paradisus  were  always  at  hand,  and  yielded 
up  their  treasures  to  the  intent  eye,  and  firm  grasp, 
which  showed  how  even  a  few  moments  during  the 
reading  of  a  Lesson,  or  the  short  pauses  in  the 
Eucharist,  were  used  to  the  best  effect. 

It  was  characteristic  of  the  Vicar  to  disapprove  of 
Total  Abstinence,  and  of  a  too  rigorous  devotion  to  fish 
on  Fridays,  but  every  meal,  hearty  as  he  was,  was 
touched  by  habitual  discipline,  and  no  one  could 
have  doubted  the  fitness  and  reality  of  the  grace 
which  he  always  said  in  Lent — a  humble  deprecation 
of  severe  judgement  on  our  unworthy  following  of 
our  Lord  and  His  saints.1 

Two  things  you  certainly  soon  heard  of,  whoever 
you  were,  if  you  spent  any  time  at  Wantage,  the 
schools  and  the  communicant  classes.  These  were 

[JThis  grace  was  :  "Blessed  Lord,  Who  for  our  sake  didst  fast 
forty  days  and  forty  nights,  and  hast  given  grace  to  many  of  Thy 
saints  to  follow  Thee  in  watchings  often,  in  fastings  often  :  Grant  to 
us  whose  faith  is  imperfect  and  bodies  less  subdued,  grace  to  follow 
Thee  more  distantly  in  a  contrite  and  humble  spirit,  and  grant  that 
the  sense  of  this  our  weakness  which  we  meekly  confess  before  Thee, 
may  in  the  end  add  strength  to  our  faith  and  seriousness  to  our 
repentance  ;  Who  livest  and  reignest  ever  one  God  world  without 
end.  Amen."] 


i8o          REMINISCENCES   BY  REV.  V.  S.  S.  COLES         1864 

the  Vicar's  delight,  and  he  told  you  about  them  and 
let  you  see  his  methods,  with  almost  boyish  pleasure. 
The  school  prayers,  modelled  on  Prime,  as  the  family 
prayers  were  on  Terce,  and  carefully  sung  morning  by 
morning,  lay  at  the  root  of  his  system.  His  daily 
teaching  of  the  pupil  teachers,  the  constant  reports 
brought  to  him  week  by  week,  and  often  day  by  day, 
of  attendance  and  other  matters,  by  the  head  teachers, 
his  frequent  visits  to  the  schools,  secured  his  influ- 
ence on  the  whole  work.  It  has  often  been  remarked 
that  he  succeeded  with  girls,  perhaps  with  women, 
better  than  with  men,  though  this  latter  statement 
can  only  be  made  with  very  real  qualifications.  I 
have  heard  him  say  many  times  that  in  the  upper 
classes  the  women  were  better  than  the  men,  and  in 
the  lower  the  men  were  better  than  the  women, 
because  among  the  poor  the  money  was  in  the  hands 
of  the  wife,  and  among  the  rich  in  the  hands  of  the 
husband.  I  think  this  saying  of  his  points  to  facts 
in  his  own  experience ;  he  succeeded  pre-eminently 
with  educated  women  ;  he  did  more  with  working- 
men  than  with  rich  men. 

Others  will  have  spoken  of  the  foundation  of  the 
Community  of  St.  Mary.  But  the  Sisters  themselves 
cannot  look  at  this  great  work  from  outside,  and  I 
may  be  allowed  to  bear  my  testimony  to  the  impres- 
sion which  the  Dean's  tender  and  manly  guidance  of 
the  Sisters  left  upon  those  outside  the  Community. 

It  is,  I  suppose,  one  of  the  great  Christian  para- 
doxes that  good  men  must  always  feel  debts  of 
infinite  obligation  to  the  example  and  influence  of 


1864  GUIDANCE   OF   THE   SISTERHOOD  181 

holy  women,  and  yet  recognise  that  the  man's  relation 
to  the  woman  is  that  of  a  ruler  and  guide.  "  The 
head  of  the  woman  is  the  man."  If  I  am  not  mis- 
taken, the  Dean  has  left  a  pattern,  almost  ideal,  to 
all  who  are  called  to  discharge  the  delicate  and  im- 
portant work  of  the  pastor  of  a  religious  female 
Community.  He  built  up  the  Community  of  St. 
Mary  because  he  never  allowed  his  self-depreciating 
reverence  to  degenerate  into  weakness. 

If  the  great  work  of  his  life  was  the  foundation  of 
the  Community  of  St.  Mary,  I  believe  that  his  en- 
couragement largely  helped  Father  Benson's  venture 
upon  the  similar  undertaking  for  men  at  Cowley  St. 
John.  The  educated  men  whom  he  did  influence 
certainly  found  that  his  help  was  as  unique  as  it  was 
excellent.  But  it  was  on  women  that  his  best 
strength  and  most  constant  pains  were  spent,  and 
probably  no  man  was  ever  more  entirely  the  true 
pastor  in  all  his  strong,  fatherly,  reverent  dealings 
with  them. 

Every  priest  who  has  found  himself  responsible  for 
a  genuine  parochial  charge,  after  having  formed  his 
convictions  on  the  principles  of  the  Anglo-Catholic 
revival,  has  been  compelled  to  consider  what  place 
the  doctrine  and  practice  of  confession  ought  to  hold 
in  his  work.  To  such  a  man  the  value  of  it  will 
probably  be,  as  it  was  to  the  Vicar  of  Wantage,  a 
matter  of  happy  experience,  and  the  desire  to  offer 
to  others  what  has  been  a  great  blessing  to  himself, 
must  be  very  strong.  At  the  same  time,  the  pre- 
judice against  confession,  still  strong  in  the  English 


182  REMINISCENCES  BY  REV.  V.  S.  S.  COLES         1864 

mind,  must  have  seemed,  when  William  Butler  began 
his  ministry,  almost  impregnable.  This  being  so, 
many  clergy  who  practised  it  for  their  own  good, 
never  mentioned  it  in  their  public  teaching.  Others, 
determined  to  escape  the  questionings  and  self- 
reproaches  which  silence  seemed  to  entail,  taught 
confession  with  hardly  any  hope  that  their  teaching 
would  be  accepted.  But  to  hold  back  a  means  of 
grace  from  his  flock,  and  to  relieve  his  own  responsi- 
bility by  a  profitless  and  harmful  defiance  of  popular 
opinion,  were  alike  alien  to  the  Vicar's  mind.  He  did 
what  some  few  other  men  of  like  character  did  also.  He 
abstained  from  speaking  of  confession  in  his  Sunday 
sermons,  or  hearing  confessions  in  church.  Those 
most  closely  connected  with  his  work,  Sisters  and 
clergy,  he  drew  to  his  own  practice,  and  upheld  them 
in  it.  In  the  system  of  penitence  arranged  for  those 
who  were  the  first  charge  of  the  Sisters,  and  occasion- 
ally, in  special  cases  amongst  his  parishioners,  he  used 
confession,  and  when  he  did  use  it,  his  mode  of 
ministration  was  most  thorough  and  definite,  but  he 
never  expected  that  it  would  become  familiar  to  the 
mass  of  his  people.  What  seems  to  me  characteristic 
of  him  is  that  he  believed  that  some  of  the  advantages 
of  the  universal  recognition  of  confession,  as  part  of 
Church  discipline,  could  be  obtained  by  his  communi- 
cant classes.  The  connexion  may  not  seem  obvious, 
as  it  must  be  clearly  understood  that  no  questions 
were  asked  at  the  classes ;  they  were  not  on  the 
Methodist  plan,  but  rather  partook  of  the  nature  of 
what  are  now  called  Meditations  and  Instructions. 


1864  VIEWS   ON   CONFESSION  ^3 

Yet  the  fact  remains  that  when  he  was  asked  what  he 
hoped  to  do  about  confession,  he  often  referred  at 
once  to  the  classes,  no  doubt  partly  because  he  hoped 
that  some  of  those  who  attended  them  would  take  the 
opportunity  of  remaining  for  confession,  but  also 
because  he  felt  that  the  really  pastoral  relation,  which 
as  distinct  from  the  forgiveness  of  deadly  sin,  is 
one  of  the  chief  advantages  of  systematic  confession, 
might  thus  be  obtained. 

It  may  be  doubted  whether  his  solution  of  a  very 
difficult  problem  is  beyond  criticism,  but  that  he 
should  have  sought  to  secure  as  much  of  the  essential 
advantage  as  he  could,  when  the  complete  attainment 
of  his  aim  was  impossible,  seems  to  me  charac- 
teristic of  one  of  the  most  prominent  and  admirable 
principles  of  his  life. 

[His  matured  views  on  this  subject  may  be  gathered 
from  a  letter  to  Canon  Carter,  and  the  printed 
declaration  which  he  signed  in  company  with  others 
of  the  same  school  of  thought. 

W.  J.  B.  TO  CANON  T.  T.  CARTER. 

TKNBY,  Sept.  10,  1873. 

I  most  willingly  authorise  you  to  append  my  name  to  those 
who  sign  the  paper  on  Confession.  Having  said  this,  I  will 
add  that  I  think  that  it  lacks  the  terseness  and  neatness  of 
that  which  we  sent  out  some  six  years  ago  on  the  subject  of 
the  Real  Presence.  That  declaration  fairly  cauterised  the 
wound.  Nothing  serious  has  been  done  since.  Even  the  Arch- 
bishop (Longley)  admitted  that  it  had  compelled  him  to  revise 
his  opinion  as  to  what  the  Church  of  England  permits,  "though," 
he  added,  "I  am  an  old  gentleman,  and  I  cannot  change  my 
own  private  views."  Could  not  then  this  declaration  be  reduced 
into  a  few  balanced  and  well-guarded  sentences  ?  People  will 
read  what  is  short — but  not  what  is  long.  .  .  . 


184  REMINISCENCES  BY  REV.  V.  S.  S.  COLES         1873 

DECLARATION   ON   CONFESSION   AND   ABSOLUTION,   AS  SET 
FORTH  BY  THE  CHURCH  OF  ENGLAND. 

We,  the  undersigned,  Priests  of  the  Church  of  England, 
considering  that  serious  misapprehensions  as  to  the  teaching 
of  the  Church  of  England  on  the  subject  of  Confession  and 
Absolution  are  widely  prevalent,  and  that  these  misapprehen- 
sions lead  to  serious  evils,  hereby  declare,  for  the  truth's  sake, 
and  in  the  fear  of  God,  what  we  hold  and  teach  on  the  subject, 
with  special  reference  to  the  points  which  have  been  brought 
under  discussion. 

1.  We  believe  and  profess,  that  Almighty  God  has  promised 
forgiveness  of  sins,  through  the  Precious  Blood  of  Jesus  Christ, 
to  all  who  turn  to  Him,  with  true  sorrow  for  sin,  out  of  unfeigned 
and  sincere  love  to  Him,  with  lively  faith  in  Jesus  Christ,  and 
with  full  purpose  of  amendment  of  life. 

2.  We  also  believe  and  profess,  that  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ 
has  instituted  in  His  Church  a  special  means  for  the  remission 
of  sin  after  Baptism,  and  for  the  relief  of  consciences,  which 
special  means  the  Church  of  England  retains  and  administers 
as  part  of  her  Catholic  heritage. 

3.  We   affirm   that — to   use   the   language   of  the  Homily — 
"Absolution  has  the  promise  of  forgiveness  of  sin,"1  although, 
the  Homily  adds,  "  by  the  express  word  of  the  New  Testament 
it  hath  not  this  promise  annexed  and  tied  to  the  visible  sign, 
which  is  imposition  of  hands,"  and  "therefore,"  it  says,  "Absolu- 
tion is  no  such  Sacrament  as  Baptism  and  the  Communion  are." 2 
We  hold  it  to  be  clearly  impossible,  that  the  Church  of  England 
in   Art.  xxv.    can    have   meant  to   disparage    the    ministry   of 
Absolution  any  more  than   she   can   have  meant  to  disparage 
the  Rites  of  Confirmation  and  Ordination,  which  she  solemnly 
administers.     We  believe  that  God  through  Absolution  confers 
an  inward  spiritual  grace  and  the  authoritative  assurance  of  His 
forgiveness  on  those  who  receive  it  with  faith  and  repentance, 
as  in  Confirmation  and  Ordination  He  confers  grace  on  those 
who  rightly  receive  the  same. 

4.  In  our  Ordination,  as  Priests  of  the  Church  of  England, 
the  words  of  our  Lord  to  His  Apostles — "  Receive  ye  the  Holy 
Ghost;    whosesoever   sins   ye    remit,    they    are    remitted   unto 

1  Homily  "  of  Common  Prayer  and  Sacraments."  2  Ibid. 


1873  DECLARATION   ON    CONFESSION  185 

them,  and  whosesoever  sins  ye  retain,  they  are  retained  " — were 
applied  to  us  individually.  Thus  it  appears,  that  the  Church 
of  England  considers  this  Commission  to  be  not  a  temporary 
endowment  of  the  Apostles,  but  a  gift  lasting  to  the  end  of 
time.  It  was  said  to  each  of  us,  "Receive  the  Holy  Ghost 
for  the  office  and  work  of  a  Priest  in  the  Church  of  God,  now 
committed  unto  thee  by  the  imposition  of  our  hands";  and  then 
followed  the  words,  "  Whose  sins  thou  dost  forgive,  they  are 
forgiven,  and  whose  sins  thou  dost  retain,  they  are  retained."1 
5.  We  are  not  here  concerned  with  the  two  forms  of  Absolu- 
tion which  the  Priest  is  directed  to  pronounce  after  the  general 
confession  of  sins  in  the  Morning  and  Evening  Prayer,  and  in 
the  Communion  Service.  The  only  form  of  words  provided  for 
us  in  the  Book  of  Common  Prayer  for  applying  the  absolving 
power  to  individual  souls  runs  thus :  "  Our  Lord  Jesus  Christ, 
Who  hath  left  power  to  His  Church  to  absolve  all  sinners  who 
truly  repent  and  believe  in  Him,  of  His  great  Mercy  forgive 
thee  thine  offences ;  and  by  His  authority  committed  to  me 
I  absolve  thee  from  all  thy  sins,  in  the  Name  of  the  Father, 
and  of  the  Son,  and  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  Amen." 2  Upon  this 
we  remark,  first,  that  in  these  words  forgiveness  of  sins  is 
ascribed  to  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ;  yet  that  the  Priest,  acting 
by  a  delegated  authority,  and  as  an  instrument,  does  through 
these  words  convey  the  absolving  grace ;  and,  secondly,  that 
the  absolution  from  sins  cannot  be  understood  to  be  the  removal 
of  any  censures  of  the  Church,  because  (a)  the  sins  from  which 
the  penitent  is  absolved  are  presupposed  to  be  sins  known 
previously  to  himself  and  God  only ;  (b)  the  words  of  the  Latin 
form  relating  to  those  censures  are  omitted  in  our  English  form ; 
and  (c)  the  release  from  excommunication  is  in  Art.  xxxiii.  re- 
served to  "a  Judge  that  hath  authority  thereunto." 

6.  This  provision,  moreover,  shows  that  the  Church  of  England, 
when  speaking  of  "  the  benefit  of  absolution,"  and  empowering 
her  Priests  to  absolve,  means  them  to  use  a  definite  form  of 
absolution,  and  does  not  merely  contemplate  a  general  reference 
to  the  promises  of  the  Gospel. 

7.  In  the  Service  for  "the  Visitation  of  the  Sick"  the  Church 
of  England  orders  that  the  sick  man  shall  even  "be  moved  to 

1  "The  Form  and  Manner  of  Ordering  of  Priests." 

2  "  The  Order  for  the  Visitation  of  the  Sick." 


186  REMINISCENCES  BY  REV.  V.  S.  S.  COLES         1873 

make  a  special  Confession  of  his  sins,  if  he  feel  his  conscience 
troubled  with  any  weighty  matter."  When  the  Church  requires 
that  the  sick  man  should,  in  such  case,  be  moved  to  make  a 
special  Confession  of  his  sins,  we  cannot  suppose  her  thereby 
to  rule  that  her  members  are  bound  to  defer  to  a  death-bed 
(which  they  may  never  see)  what  they  know  to  be  good  for 
their  souls.  We  observe  that  the  words,  "be  moved  to,"  were 
added  in  1661,  and  that  therefore  at  the  last  revision  of  the 
Book  of  Common  Prayer  the  Church  of  England  affirmed  the 
duty  of  exhorting  to  Confession  in  certain  cases  more  strongly 
than  at  the  date  of  the  Keformation,  probably  because  the 
practice  had  fallen  into  abeyance  during  the  Great  Rebellion. 

8.  The  Church  of  England  also,   holding  it  "requisite  that 
no  man  should  come  to  the  Holy  Communion,  but  with  a  full 
trust  in  God's  mercy,  and  with  a  quiet  conscience,"  commands 
the  Minister  to  bid   "any"  one  who    "cannot  quiet  his   own 
conscience  herein,"  to  come  to  him,  or  "  to  some  other  discreet 
and  learned  Minister  of  God's  Word,  and  open  his  grief;  that 
by  the  ministry  of  God's  Holy  Word  he  may  receive  the  benefit 
of  absolution,   together  with,"  and  therefore  as  distinct  from, 
"ghostly  counsel  and  advice";1  and  since  she  directs  that  this- 
invitation  should  be  repeated  in  giving  warning  of  Holy  Com- 
munion, and  Holy  Communion  is  constantly  offered  to  all,  it 
follows  that  the  use  of  Confession  may  be,  at  least  in  some 
cases,  of  not  unfrequent  occurrence. 

9.  We  believe  that  the  Church  left  it  to  the  consciences  of 
individuals,   according  to  their  sense  of  their  needs,  to  decide 
whether  they  would  confess  or  not,  as  expressed  in  that  chari- 
table exhortation  of  the  First  English  Prayer  Book,  "  requiring 
such  as  shall  be  satisfied  with  a  general  Confession,  not  to  be 
offended  with  them  that  do  use,  to  their  further  satisfying,  the 
auricular  and  secret  Confession  to  the  Priest ;   nor  those  also, 
which  think  needful  or  convenient,  for  the  quietness  of  their 
own  consciences,  particularly  to  open  their  sins  to  the  Priest, 
to  be  offended  with  them  that  are  satisfied  with  their  humble 
Confession  to  God,  and  the  general  Confession  to  the  Church : 
but  in  all  things  to  follow  and  keep  the  rule  of  Charity ;  and 
every  man  to  be  satisfied  with  his  own  conscience,  not  judging 
other  men's  minds  or  consciences ;  whereas  he  hath  no  warrant 

1  Exhortation  in  the  Service  for  Holy  Communion. 


1873  DECLARATION    ON   CONFESSION  187 

of  God's  Word  to  the  same."  And  although  this  passage  was 
omitted  in  the  second  Prayer  Book,  yet  that  its  principle  was 
not  repudiated,  may  be  gathered  from  the  "Act  for  the  Uni- 
formity of  Service"  (1552),  which,  while  authorizing  the  second 
Prayer  Book,  asserts  the  former  book  to  be  "agreeable  to  the 
Word  of  God  and  the  primitive  Church." 

10.  We  would  further  observe,  that  the  Church  of  England 
has  nowhere  limited  the  occasions  upon  which  her  Priests  should 
exercise  the  office  which  she  commits  to  them  at  their  ordina- 
tion ;   and  that  to  command  her  Priests  in  two  of  her  Offices 
to   hear   confessions   if  made,  cannot  be   construed   negatively 
into  a  command  not  to  receive  confessions  on  any  other  occasions. 
But,  in  fact  (see  above  No.   7,  8),  the  two  occasions  specified 
do  practically  comprise  the  whole  of  the  adult  life.     A  succession 
of  Divines  of  great  repute  in  the  Church  of  England,  from  the 
very  time  when   the  English  Prayer  Book  was  framed,  speak 
highly  of  Confession,  without  limiting  the  occasions  upon  which, 
or    the   frequency  with    which,   it   should   be  used;    and    the 
113th  Canon,  framed  in  the  Convocation  of  1603,  recognized 
Confession  as  a  then  existing  practice,  in  that  it  decreed  under 
the  severest  penalties,  that  "if  any  man  confess  his  secret  and 
hidden  sins  to  the  Minister  for  the  unburdening  of  his  con- 
science, and  to  receive  spiritual  consolation  and  ease  of  mind 
from    him ;  .  .  .  the   said    Minister  ...  do   not   at   any  time 
reveal  and  make  known  to  any  person  whatsoever  any  crime 
or  offence  so  committed  to  his  trust  and  secrecy,  (except  they 
be  such  crimes  as  by  the  laws  of  this  realm  his  own  life  may 
be  called  into  question  for  concealing  the  same)." 

11.  While  then  we  hold  that  the  formularies  of  the  Church 
of  England  do  not  authorize  any  Priest  to  teach  that  private 
Confession   is   a   condition   indispensable  to   the  forgiveness  of 
sin  after  Baptism,  and  that  the  Church  of  England  does  not 
justify   any   Parish   Priest   in   requiring  private  Confession  as- 
a  condition  of  receiving  Holy  Communion,  we  also  hold  that 
all    who,    under    the    circumstances    above    stated,    claim    the 
privileges  of  private  Confession,  are  entitled  to  it,  and  that  the 
Clergy  are  directed  under  certain  circumstances  to  '  move '  persons 
to  such  Confession.     In  insisting  on  this,  as  the  plain  meaning 
of  the  authorized  language  of  the  Church  of  England,  we  believe 
ourselves  to  be  discharging  our  duty  as  her  faithful  Ministers. 


i88  REMINISCENCES  BY  REV.  V.  S.  S.  COLES         1873 

Ash  well,  A.  R.,  Canon  of  Chichester. 

Baker,  Henry  W.,  Vicar  of  Monkland. 

Bartholomew,  Ch.  Ch.,  Vicar  of  Cornwood,  and  Rural  Dean  of  Plymton. 

Benson,  R.  M.,  Incumbent  of  Cowley  S.  John,  Oxford. 

Butler,  William  J.,  Vicar  of  "Wantage,  and  Rural  Dean. 

Carter,  T.  T.,  Rector  of  Clewer. 

Chambers,  J.  C.,  Vicar  of  S.  Mary's,  Soho. 

Churton,  Edw.,  Rector  of  Crayke,  and  Archdeacon  of  Cleveland. 

Denison,  George  A.,  Vicar  of  East  Brent,  and  Archdeacon  of  Taunton. 

Galton,  J.  L.,  Rector  of  S.  Sidwell's,  Exeter. 

Gilbertson,  Lewis,  Rector  of  Braunston. 

Grey,  Francis  R.,  Rector  of  Morpeth. 

Grueber,  C.  L.,  Vicar  of  S.  James',  Hambridge. 

Keble,  Thos.,  jun.,  Bisley. 

King,  Edward,  D.D.,  Canon  of  Christ  Church,  Oxford. 

Liddell,  Robert,  Incumbent  of  S.  Paul's,  Knightsbridge. 

Liddon,  H.  P.,  D.D.,  Canon  of  S.  Paul's,  London. 

MacColl,  M.,  Rector  of  S.  Botolph,  Billingsgate,  London. 

Mackonochie,  A.  H.,  Perpetual  Curate  of  S.  Alban's,  Holborn. 

Mayow,  M.  W.,  Rector  of  Southam,  and  Rural  Dean. 

Medd,  P.  G.,  Senior  Fellow  of  University  College,  Oxford. 

Murray,  F.  H.,  Rector  of  Chislehurst. 

Pusey,  E.  B.,  D.D.,  Canon  of  Christ  Church,  Oxford. 

Randall,  R.  W.,  Incumbent  of  All  Saints,  Clifton. 

Sharp,  John,  Vicar  of  Horbury. 

Skinner,  James,  Vicar  of  Newlands,  Great  Malvern. 

White,  G.  C.,  Vicar  of  S.  Barnabas,  Pimlico. 

Williams,  G.,  Vicar  of  Ring  wood. 

Wilson,  R.  F.,  Vicar  of  Rownhams,  Southampton.] 

I  have  mentioned  that  the  Vicar  was  one  of  the 
earliest  friends  of  the  Society  of  St.  John  the  Evan- 
gelist. He  himself  became  an  associate  of  the 
Society,  and  the  American  Father  Grafton,  now 
Bishop  of  Fond-du-lac,  one  of  its  earliest  members, 
took  a  Retreat  at  the  Home  soon  after  his  arrival  in 
England.  Thus,  in  the  case  of  one  of  the  highest 
and  most  single-minded  efforts  springing  out  of 
the  Oxford  Movement,  the  help  which  it  would 
be  natural  to  expect  from  so  powerful  a  personal- 
ity as  that  of  the  Vicar  of  Wantage,  being,  as  he 
was,  in  full  sympathy  with  the  movement,  was  not 
wanting.  This  leads  to  the  consideration  of  his  re- 


1869       UNIVERSITY   PREACHER  AT   CAMBRIDGE         189 

lation  in  general  to  the  University  and  the  Diocese. 
He  used  to  say  that  he  could  imagine  no  lot  more 
happy  than  that  of  a  man  who  was  a  member  of  the 
University  of  Cambridge,  and  lived  fourteen  miles, 
from  Oxford.  Others  have  contributed  their  know- 
ledge of  his  Cambridge  life  and  associations.  He  often 
spoke  of  his  first  acquaintance  with  the  Tractarian 
teaching  having  been  due  to  his  friend  Philip 
Freeman,  afterwards  Archdeacon  of  Exeter.  They 
went  together  on  a  reading  party  to  the  Lakes. 
Each  was  to  take  one  book  for  recreation,  and  when 
it  occurred  to  Butler  to  exchange  with  his  friend,  it 
was  the  Christian  Year  that  fell  into  his  hands. 

The  late  Dr.  Luard's1  was  the  name  I  remember 
associating  most  closely  with  his  visits  to  Cambridge, 
and  I  well  remember  his  interest  in  a  course  of 
University  sermons  which  he  preached  there,  while 
I  was  curate  at  Wantage.  They  were,  I  think,  to 
have  been  on  some  subjects  connected  with  the 
Person  of  our  Lord ;  but  finally  the  Vicar  took  the 
Trials  of  our  Lord,  a  subject  which  his  habitual 
treatment  of  the  Gospel  narratives  in  Passion-tide 
had  made  familiar  to  him. 

I  believe  his  sermons  at  Cambridge  did  their  work, 
as  certainly  did  some  which  he  preached  in  Oxford  ; 
but  with  all  his  great  interest  in  literature  and  his  love 
for  the  Universities,  his  was  not  an  academical  mind. 
No  man  was  ever  more  relentlessly  bent  on  testing 
theory  by  practice,  and  Common  Rooms,  patient  of 
many  theories,  pause  when  a  rapid  and  decisive 

1  Registrary  of  the  University. 


igo  REMINISCENCES  BY  REV.  V.  S.  S.  COLES         1866 

transition  from  the  abstract  to  the  concrete  is  pressed 
upon  them.  Perhaps,  too,  some  of  the  epigrammatic 
attacks,  which  were  among  the  Dean's  most  effective 
weapons, — "  Are  you  a  sacerdotalist  or  a  Plymouth 
Brother  ? "  —would  be  least  effective  in  academic 
society.  But  the  witness  of  Wantage  to  the  possi- 
bility of  carrying  Church  principles  into  practice 
was  not  lost  upon  Oxford.  It  was  his  way  to  make 
much  of  special  friends,  and  his  relations  with  a  place 
or  a  group  would  be  through  the  friends  who  linked 
him  to  it.  His  special  and  dearest  friend  in  the 
University,  James  Eiddell,  was  taken  from  him  and 
from  Oxford  when  his  brilliant  career  was  only 
approaching  its  fulness.  Those  who  remember  will 
not  doubt  that  any  man  who  had  his  usual  resting- 
place  in  Oxford  in  Eiddell's  rooms  in  Balliol,  was 
worthy  of  the  best  that  Oxford  had  to  give.1 

This  may  be  the  place  to  say  a  word  as  to  William 
Butler's  relations  with  Bishop  Wilberforce.     The  two 

[JThe  publication  of  a  poem  on  "Balliol  Scholars,"  by  Principal 
Shairp,  of  St.  Andrews,  gave  great  pleasure  to  the  Vicar  by  the  terms 
in  which  James  Riddell  was  spoken  of.  He  wrote  to  express  his 
gratification  to  the  Professor,  who  thus  replied  :  "  I  have  heard  of 
you  often  from  dear  C.  E.  Prichard.  The  way  he  used  to  speak  of 
Wantage  and  the  life  lived  there  remains  ineffaceably  on  my  memory. 
I  think  it  was  at  an  earlier  time  that  he  used  to  go  there  than  those 
visits  of  James  Riddell  to  which  you  allude.  Thank  you  for  giving 
me  those  strangely  touching  words  with  which  you  say  that  James 
Riddell  closed  his  last  sermon  in  your  church.  They  are  so  very  like 
himself.  I  had  two  years  ago,  from  C.  W.  Furse,  notes  of  another 
sermon  he  preached  on  a  Good  Friday  in  his  church,  which  contained 
much  of  bis  beautiful  spirit.  My  visits  to  England  are  now  few  and 
at  wide  intervals.  I  don't  see  much  chance  of  my  being  able  to  get  to 
Wantage,  greatly  as  I  should  wish  to  do  so.  But,  as  you  say,  com- 
munity of  friends  makes  friends,  and  for  the  sake  of  those  whom  we 
have  loved  and  lost,  I  shall  always  think  of  you  as  of  an  unseen  friend."] 


i868      RELATIONS   WITH    BISHOP   WILBERFORCE        191 

men  understood  each  other  as  only  men  of  action  can. 
Their  bright  amusing  conversation  was  that  of  those 
who  shared  the  relaxation  earned  by  the  toil  which 
both  knew  well.  Nevertheless,  the  Vicar  of  Wantage 
was  not  simply  one  of  Bishop  Wilberforce's  men.  He 
loved  his  Bishop  and  served  him  loyally,  but  it  was 
not  on  the  Bishop's  teaching  that  his  convictions 
were  formed.  To  many  who  did  not  look  below  the 
surface,  it  may  have  seemed  that  Samuel  Wilberforce 
was  a  genuine  disciple  of  the  Revival.  I  remember 
the  spot  in  Oxford  where  in  1868  a  man  just  taking 
his  degree,  who  has  since  had  a  foremost  place  in  our 
Church  life,  said,  "  I  have  been  brought  up  to  look 
upon  the  Bishop  of  Oxford  and  Dr.  Pusey  as  being 
the  same  thing  :  I  am  just  beginning  to  see  that  their 
line  is  different."  Where  that  difference  becomes 
defined,  William  Butler  stands  on  the  side  of  Dr. 
Pusey  and  not  of  Bishop  Wilberforce.  Apart  from 
the  truth,  as  I  believe  it  to  be,  of  the  stronger 
position,  the  Dean's  adherence  to  it  exhibits  the  true 
greatness  of  his  character.  As  I  have  said  already, 
no  man  ever  gave  closer  heed  to  the  probabilities  of 
success  in  restoration  and  development  of  Church 
life.  His  hand  always  touched  the  pulse  of  his 
parish.  No  fear  of  seeming  weak  ever  forced  his 
hand.  But  it  was  just  because  his  mind  was  entirely 
made  up  on  the  central  doctrines  of  the  Revival  that 
he  could  afford  to  be  patient.  He  did  not  need  to 
prove  the  strength  of  an  immature  conviction  by 
forcing  it  into  rash  action.  At  the  bottom  he  ever 
held  those  sacerdotal  doctrines,  which,  distinct  as 


192  REMINISCENCES  BY  REV.  V.  S.  S.  COLES         1868 

they  are  from  the  tendencies  which  really  make  for 
the  Roman  theory,  are,  and  were  still  more,  forty 
years  ago,  thoroughly  unpopular  in  England. 

The  two  things  for  the  sake  of  which  High 
Churchmen  have  been  forced  to  sacrifice  oppor- 
tunities of  reaching  their  fellow-countrymen,  are  the 
claim  of  an  integral  place  in  the  pastoral  system  for 
voluntary  confession,  and  the  belief  in  the  reality  of 
the  inward  part  of  the  Holy  Sacrament,  apart  from 
reception.  On  both  these  points  it  was  the  advan- 
tage, as  regards  success,  the  weakness,  as  regards 
consistency,  of  Bishop  Wilberforce,  to  be,  perhaps 
at  the  verge  of  it,  but  still  undoubtedly  on  the 
popular  side,  and  he  was  well  aware  that  this  advan- 
tage or  defect  was  not  shared  by  Butler.  Something 
has  already  been  said  about  his  views  as  to  con- 
fession. Roughly  they  came  to  this,  that  it  was 
desirable  for  all  who  could  believe  in  it,  almost 
indispensable  for  the  perfection  of  the  clerical  and 
the  religious  life,  so  desirable  for  some  who  had 
fallen  deeply,  as  to  make  it  necessary  to  be  bold  in 
propounding  it.  It  was  only  his  intensely  practical 
habit  of  mind  which  hindered  the  Vicar  from  pressing 
it  where  he  knew  it  was  impossible  to  carry  it,  and 
where  he  trusted  that  the  fact  of  such  impossibility 
pointed  to  the  guidance  of  the  Divine  Will. 

No  doubt  this  position  far  exceeds  the  limits 
allowed  by  Bishop  Wilberforce,  in  his  published 
utterances,  to  the  use  of  confession.  Far  more  did 
his  position  fall  short  of  that  to  which  the  Vicar's 
deliberate  conviction  had  led  him  on  the  matter  of 


1867  A   STUDY   OF    FRENCH    COMMUNITIES  193 

the  Real  Presence.  The  Bishop  was,  no  doubt,  in 
this  matter  a  genuine  follower  of  Hooker,  or,  to  be 
accurate,  of  Hooker's  teaching  in  the  fifth  book  of 
his  Ecclesiastical  Polity.  The  belief  in  the  Real 
Presence  as  held  by  Dr.  Pusey  rested  on  the  force 
of  the  words  of  our  Lord  as  interpreted  by  the 
teachings  of  the  Fathers.  Hooker's  method  was 
rather  to  consider  what  is  the  true  purpose  of  the 
Sacrament,  and  then  to  inquire  what  manner  of 
Presence  is  necessary  to  that  end.  This  method 
would  commend  itself  to  a  mind  like  that  of  the 
great  organising  prelate,  who  may  be  pardoned  if 
in  so  busy  and  hard-pressed  a  life  he  sacrificed 
something  of  the  abstract  completeness  of  truth  to 
the  concrete  necessities  of  his  flock.  But  it  was  a 
sacrifice  which,  in  this  matter  at  any  rate,  the 
Vicar  could  never  have  endured,  because  the  com- 
plete truth  of  the  Real  Presence  had  made  good  an 
appeal  to  the  needs  and  instincts  of  his  own  heart, 
and  he  had  been  led  to  see  its  astonishing  power  for 
good  in  the  spiritual  life  of  foreign  Churches,  and 
especially  of  their  religious  communities.  I  think  it 
was  about  the  year  1867  that  he  made  a  study,  during 
his  holiday,  of  some  of  the  Jesuit  houses  in  France. 
I  can  never  forget  his  account  of  this  tour  on  his 
return.  He  had  done  the  thing  thoroughly,  like 
everything  else.  He  had  gone  prepared  for  con- 
troversy, humbly  secure  that  he  was  doing  God's 
work  at  home,  and  that  it  was  impossible  that  he 
could  be  called  to  sever  his  connexion  with  those 
whom  God  had  taught  with  and  through  him,  but  at 


194  REMINISCENCES  BY  REV.  V.  S.  S.  COLES         1867 

the  same  time,  with  an  open  mind,  ready  to  learn  all 
that  the  sight  of  principles  just  reviving  at  home,  but 
here  in  France  habitually  accepted,  could  teach  him. 
Thus  when  his  hosts,  stimulated  to  their  most  eager 
and  demonstrative  efforts  by  the  value  of  one  who 
seemed  a  possible  convert  of  the  first  rank,  pressed 
him  with  a  priori  arguments  for  the  Papal  monarchy, 
he  felt  an  almost  amused  pleasure  in  reminding  them 
that  the  English  were  never  logical,  and  strong  in  his 
conviction  that  their  theoretical  structures  would  not 
bear  the  test  of  historical  fact,  bade  them  grateful 
farewell,  while  they  stretched  after  him  eager  hands, 
and  kept  repeating,  "  Soyez  consequent,  monsieur." 

[Some  letters  written  to  Mrs.  Butler  at  this  period 
describe  these  visits  to  the  Jesuit  Fathers,  and  also 
show  his  remarkable  power  of  throwing  his  mind  into 
the  subject  before  him,  undistracted  by  preoccupa- 
tions. For  it  was  during  1867  that,  as  the  following 
chapter  will  relate,  for  several  months  he  was  await- 
ing the  decision  of  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury 
on  his  acceptance  or  refusal  of  the  See  of  Natal. 

W.  J.  B.  TO  HIS  WIFE. 

PARIS,  August  16,  1867. 

.  .  .  Well,  I  am  quite  converted,  and  could  spend  weeks 
in  Paris.  It  is  really  a  wonderful  place,  and  I  see  no  special 
reason  to  suppose  that  the  devil  built  it.  It  was  a  goodly  sight 
last  night  to  see  the  immense  masses  of  people,  perfectly  sober 
and  orderly,  traversing  the  Place  de  la  Concorde  in  all  directions. 
And  the  loveliness  of  the  scene  was  beyond  description.  There 
was  a  vast  network  of  lamps  festooned  from  the  Tuileries  right 
away  to  the  Arc  de  1'Etoile — all  round  those  waterworks  and  the 
huge  obelisk,  and  the  Rue  de  Rivoli  had  two  long  straight  lines  of 
light  on  each  side  to  the  very  end.  The  British  Embassy  was  very 


1867  A  VISIT   TO   S.   SULPICE 


195 


cleverly  illuminated,  and  as  for  the  Prince  Napoleon,  his  house  was 
a  great  blaze  of  light.  Then  of  course  there  were  '  feux  d'artifice,' 
etc.  We  wandered  up  and  down  till  we  were  tired,  more  astonished 
at  the  behaviour  of  the  people  than  anything  else. 

I    slept    like    a    dormouse — dreaming    however    greatly    of 

Colenso,  whose  pupil  had  been.     He  told  me  a  good  deal 

about  him.  He  was  kind  and  painstaking,  but  always  broaching 
strange  ideas.  ...  I  breakfasted  at  ten  or  thereabouts  (the 
room  was  full  of  compatriots),  indulging  only  in  coffee  and  bread 
and  butter;  and  then  I  mooned  forth  to  S.  Sulpice,  to  one  of 
whose  professors,  M.  Hogan,  I  had  an  introduction.  He  was 
described  to  me  as  a  French  Liddon.  Unfortunately  he  was 
'en  vacances'  till  Oct.  1.  I  therefore  put  a  bold  face  on  the 
matter  and  walked  straightway  to  M.  le  Cure*  de  S.  Sulpice,  by 
name  Hamon,  with  my  card  and  letter.  He  was  at  home,  and 
we  had  a  deal  of  talk.  Of  course  he  drove  at  me  right  and 
left  to  convert  me,  and  this  wasted  a  deal  of  time.  It  was 
useless  to  say,  "Monsieur,  j'ai  pris  mon  parti — j'ai  lu  tout  ce 
qu'il  y  a  a  lire,"  etc.  He  would  return  to  the  great  question. 
His  point  was  simply  iteration  of  'pasce  oves  meas.'  Without 
the  Pope  no  unity — no  faith.  Greeks  are  schismatics.  You  are 
mere  women-ridden  slaves — governed  by  the  Court  of  Admiralty. 
Alas !  you  poor  Anglicans,  we  pity  you  with  all  our  hearts 
(and,  suiting  the  action  to  the  word,  he  threw  his  arms  round 
me),  we  love  and  would  fain  make  you  right.  You  are  brought 
up  in  the  midst  of  prejudice,  etc.,  etc.  His  arguing  was  very 
weak,  and  when  I  said,  "If  the  Pope  is  all  that  you  say  he  is, 
why  should  there  ever  have  been  the  General  Councils  1 "  he 
answered,  there  never  was  any  real  need  of  General  Councils — 
the  Pope  only  called  them  together  out  of  complaisance.  Well, 
but,  said  I,  the  Council  of  Constance  deposed  the  Pope.  He 
simply  denied  it.  As  for  S.  Cyprian,  he  tried  to  make  out  that 
he  gave  in  to  the  Pope.  Have  the  goodness,  said  I,  strong  in 
my  S.  Cyprian,  to  show  me  the  epistle.  Surely,  in  the  Council 
of  Carthage,  he  distinctly,  with  his  bishops — wrongly,  I  grant — 
decided  against  the  Pope  in  the  matter  of  heretical  baptism. 
He  said  that  he  would  do  so,  but  did  not  fulfil  his  promise.  I 
looked  on  all  this  as  so  much  lost  time,  being  very  anxious  to 
talk  to  him  about  Confession  and  various  other  matters.  He 
told  me  that  he  had  60,000  people  in  his  parish  and  25  curates. 


196  REMINISCENCES  BY  REV.  V.  S.  S.  COLES         1867 

I  am  to  call  to-morrow  at  12.30  and  be  introduced  to  some 
school  Sisterhood.  From  him  I  went  (with  a  note  from  him) 
to  les  Petites  Soeurs  des  Pauvres,  in  the  Rue  de  N.  D.  des 
Champs,  and  stayed  an  endless  time — two  or  three  hours,  I  think. 
A  dear  young  Irish  lady,  a  nun,  took  me  in  tow.  I  could  have 
cried  with  delight  at  what  I  heard  and  saw.  If  I  were  to  be 
converted  it  would  be  by  such  sights  as  that,  not  by  the  good 
Father's  argument  or  eloquence. 

The  buildings  form  three  sides  of  a  quadrangle — the  entrance 
being  the  fourth  with  a  very  pretty  garden  in  the  middle.  I 
observe  that  a  cloister  is  everywhere  '  de  rigueur.'  They  have 
250  old  men  and  women  under  their  roof,  all  happy  and 
apparently  good.  Wonderful  are  their  arrangements  for  victuals 
and  clothing.  I  saw  a  drawer  full  of  crusts,  etc.  The  kitchen 
was  a  model  of  neatness.  The  beds — in  long  rooms — as  clean 
and  comfortable  as  possible.  Each  bed  had  a  bolster  and  two 
pillows  with  the  whitest  of  counterpanes.  The  old  men  were 
playing  cards — the  old  women  needling.  Some  were  sitting 
in  the  cloisters,  others  sunning  themselves  in  the  garden.  I 
asked  heaps  of  questions  which  were  all  answered  simply  and 
naturally.  There  are  about  1500  Sisters  occupying  100  houses. 
They  have  no  money.  It  is  all  spent  in  building.  They  are 
recruited  from  the  bourgeoisie,  with  a  few  Dames  de  qualite. 
They  are  all  alike,  and  have  to  perform  two  years  of  novitiate  at 
the  Mother  house.  No  one  is  admitted  who  is  older  than  35, 
because  there  is  so  much  hard  work  to  be  done.  They  take 
vows  for  three  years  only,  and  are  admitted  by  the  Superieur 
General,  a  Priest  deputed  by  the  Bishop.  Next  to  the  Sisters  of 
S.  Vincent  de  Paul  they  are  the  most  flourishing  order  in 
France.  My  conductress  had  been  in  London  originally,  but 
had  been  sent  to  Paris  some  four  years  ago — time  enough  for 
her  to  talk  English  in  the  funniest  French  fashion — and  French, 
as  she  said,  well  enough  to  amuse  all  the  rest. 

I  saw  all  the  old  people  in  their  various  rooms,  and  contrasted 
them  mentally  with  our  grumpy  old  wretches  under  the  benign 

influence  of and  the  Board  of  Guardians.  I  am  sure  that  we 

shall  never  do  anything  decently  till  the  English  Government 
works  on  very  different  principles  and  accepts  religion  as  a 
happyfying  thing.  The  good  Sister  told  me  that  the  deaths  of 
these  old  folk  were  often  most  edifying,  almost  miraculous  some- 


186;  AT   THE   EXHIBITION 


197 


times.  The  Sisters  never  interfere  with  them  in  matters  of 
religion.  They  may  be  Mahometans,  if  they  like.  All  this  is 
left  to  the  Vicaire  of  S.  Sulpice,  deputed  by  the  Cure  to  look 
after  them. 

I  lingered  on,  till  I  could  in  decency  stay  no  more,  left  a 
'piece  de  dix  francs,'  and  by  a  circuitous  railway  route  at  the 
cost  of  4d.  and  an  hour,  made  for  the  Exposition,  at  which 
I  had  but  a  little  time  to  spend.  It  closes  at  six.  I  saw  how- 
ever a  few  more  interesting  things,  and  then  fell  in  with  the 
enormous  crowd  as  they  'debouched'  into  the  Pare  which 
surrounds  it.  I  began  to  be  very  hungry,  and  though  the 
whole  of  the  huge  oval  is  surrounded  with  eating  places,  I 
could  not  make  up  my  mind  to  settle  down  anywhere.  The 
waiters  seemed  pert,  and  the  prices  high.  At  last  I  espied 
'le  grand  Restaurant  de  Suffren' — dinner  3fr-  50 c-  with  a  bottle 
of  wine.  I  entered,  had  a  ticket  handed  to  me  by  a  tall  gentle- 
man ('decore'),  and  asked  for  a  dinner  'en  maigre,'  which  they 
had  some  difficulty  in  supplying.  By  dint,  however,  of  fish 
and  'legumes,'  I  made  it  out  pretty  fairly,  and  sat  wondering 
at  the  good  temper  and  unwearied  waiting  of  the  '  gar9ons,'  and 
also  at  the  splendour  of  the  room.  Although  merely  run  up 
for  the  nonce  it  is  lofty,  beautifully  painted,  capable  of  holding 
400  or  500  people.  The  arrangements  were  perfect,  and  every- 
thing of  the  very  best.  Notwithstanding  the  vast  number  of 
guests,  each  was  thoroughly  cared  for.  Then  I  wandered  about 
the  Pare  looking  at  the  quaint  buildings,  all  huddled  together — 
Japanese,  Tunisian,  Swiss  cottages,  models  of  catacombs,  an 
Egyptian  temple.  It  is  enough  to  turn  one  into  a  little  Alice,1 
and  as  the  evening  began  to  set  in,  I  walked  homewards  along 
the  Seine  for  about  a  couple  of  miles.  En  route  I  asked  a  man 
for  the  Pont  de  la  Concorde,  who  answered,  beating  his  breast 
simultaneously,  "English,  English."  He  turned  out  to  be  a  master 
bricklayer  from  the  Potteries,  with  his  wife.  We  had  a  deal 
of  talk.  He  expressed  great  astonishment  at  Paris,  thought 
the  French  far  ahead  of  us,  and  was  especially  struck  with  their 
behaviour  last  night.  "  Why,  sir,  if  it  had  been  in  England,  half 
of  them  would  have  been  drunk,  and  they  would  certainly  have 
smashed  those  lamps  for  mischiefs  sake."  He  was  a  Churchman, 
and  I  directed  him  where  to  go  on  Sunday.  He  had  met  no 
1  Alices  Adventures  in  Wonderland. 


198  REMINISCENCES  BY  REV.  V.  S.  S.  COLES         1867 

English,  and  was  very  pleased  to  have  an  opportunity  of  venti- 
lating his  mother  tongue.  ...  I  quite  regret  to  leave  Paris.  .  .  . 
I  shall  try  to  get  an  introduction  from  my  friend  M.  le  Cure  de 
S.  Sulpice  to  some  of  the  clergy  on  my  line  of  march. 

I  could  go  on  prosing  for  ever  on  the  wonderful  lift  that 
France  has  gained  in  all  respects  during  the  last  twenty  years ; 
but,  like  an  honest  man,  I  must  add  that  the  lady  the  concierge 
(English)  at  the  H6tel  Vouillemont,  who  is  '  catholique,'  declares 
that  the  English  people  are  much  better,  and  that  the  French 
are  selfish  and  wicked.  There  is  some  comfort  in  that  for  a 
wounded  spirit.  ...  I  forgot  to  say  that  I  went  into  N.  D. 
des  Champs,  a  very  pretty  wooden  church  capable  of  holding 
500  or  600  people — a  far  better  instrument  than  iron. 

W.  J.  B.  TO  HIS  WIFE. 

SOISSONS,  ix  S.  after  Trinity,  9.30  P.M.  [1867]. 
So  here  I  am  in  this  world-old  city  of  Soissons,  after  a  most 
interesting  day,  quietly  sitting  down  to  write  you  an  account  of 
my  adventures.     I  thought  this  morning  of  Goldsmith's  line, 

"  Remote,  unfriended,  solitary,  slow," 

and  find  myself  neither  one  nor  the  other.  But  to  continue  my 
history  since  Friday  evening.  Saturday  I  invested  in  pen  and 
ink,  and  have  enjoyed  peace  ever  since.  Had  a  long  talk  with 
Madame  la  Concierge  of  the  Vouillemont,  who,  though  herself  a 
'Catholic,'  has  no  faith  in  the  French,  declares  that  they  are 
wicked  and  selfish,  and  hate  us  although  they  make  their  fortune 
by  us,  as  she  tells  Monsieur  of  the  hotel  whenever  he  makes  his 
many  unkind  remarks,  as  he  did  only  to-day  when  she  went  to 
post  my  letter  to  you.  She  is  married  to  a  Belgian,  whose  ways 
are  English,  else  she  would  not  have  had  him,  and  she  goes  to 
Bath,  her  native  city,  in  January  to  place  her  daughter  as  a 
pupil  in  a  convent  there.  Then  I  started  for  S.  Sulpice  to  find 
M.  le  Cure",  was  hindered  for  a  minute,  and  arrived  just  too  late. 
'  II  est  sorti  il  y  a  cinq  minutes.'  I  was  much  aggravated,  but  I 
turned  my  misfortune  to  account  by  hunting  up  Hachette's  Library 
and  getting  a  guide-book  for  the  part  of  France  which  I  was  about 
to  visit,  and  looking  at  the  H6tel  Cluny,  which  is  close  at  hand. 
.  .  .  Soissons  contains  some  12,000  inhabitants,  and  is 
crammed  with  curiosities  and  relics,  as  you  may  easily  imagine. 
One  seems  to  breathe  a  Merovingian  air.  Chilperics  and  Clotaires, 


i86;  AT   SOISSONS 


199 


and  Louis  le  Debonnaire,  and  folk  of  that  sort,  rise  up  round  one. 
Well,  after  'du  cafe,'  and  after  fulfilling  my  own  duties  and 
Services,  I  started  for  the  Cathedral  and  High  Mass  at  9.30, 
soon  stumbled  on  the  sous-sacristain,  inserted  a  franc  into  his 
willing  paw,  and  asked  him  for  a  'siege'  whence  I  should  not 
be  'derange,'  and  asked  a  few  questions  as  to  how  to  get  a 
guide-book  for  Soissons.  He  put  me  in  the  part  which  surrounds 
the  choir,  and  I  saw  and  heard  to  advantage.  When  service  was 
over  at  11.30,  a  very  pleasing  young  ecclesiastic  accosted  me, 
and  requesting  me  to  follow  him  'chez  lui,'  offered  not  only  to 
lend  me  books  but  himself  to  have  the  honour  of  showing  me  the 
lions  of  the  place.  It  was  exactly  what  I  wanted.  I  carried  home 
his  books,  got  an  hour's  study  of  them,  and  from  one  till  seven 
he  acted  as  my  guide.  He  was  extremely  intelligent,  and  besides 
giving  me  all  information  about  Soissons,  I  learnt  much  from  him 
about  the  state  of  ecclesiastical  concerns.  He  lives  in  a  pleasant 
little  room,  well  filled  with  books  and  prints.  His  name  and 
title  is  "  1'Abbe"  Ply,  Vicaire  et  Maltre  de  Chapelle  de  la  Cath4- 
drale."  We  went  first  to  the  Abbey  of  S.  Medard,  formerly 
Benedictine,  a  regular  S.  Denis  of  the  olden  days.  There  are  a 
good  many  remains — chapel,  crypt,  etc. — and  it  is  now  turned 
into  a  Hospital  for  Sourds-Muets  et  Aveugles,  under  the  charge 
of  Sisters  'de  la  Sagesse.'  A  very  bright  pretty  young  woman, 
the  Superioress,  showed  us  over  the  establishment,  and  I  literally 
heard  the  deaf  and  dumb  talk,  and  the  blind  read  and  play.  I 
made  my  small  offering,  thankful  for  the  chance,  and  then  we 
marched  off  to  S.  Jean  des  Vignes,  which  must  have  been  a 
magnificent  church;  now  only  the  face  remains,  i.e.  two  huge 
towers  and  spires,  with  a  triple  doorway  deeply  recessed.  We 
climbed  up  to  the  top  and  had  a  good  view  of  the  country.  My 
friend  told  me  that  it  is  the  current  tale  that  Fenelon  described 
the  island  of  Calypso  from  this  riant  valley.  It  seems  that  he 
lived  somewhere  hard  by  while  he  wrote  T6Umaque.  Thence  to 
the  '  petit  Seminaire,'  where  there  is  a  very  interesting  Roman- 
esque church,  and  so  up  and  down,  seeing  everything,  and  having 
much  talk  as  we  passed  along.  My  friend  spoke  very  differently 
from  M.  Hamon  of  S.  Sulpice,  whom  he  called  '  un  homme  tres 
distingue.'  He  told  me  that  the  power  of  the  bishops  was 
'  enorme,'  also  that  the  congregations  of  regulars  did  much  harm. 
There  is  always  an  appeal  to  Rome  from  the  bishops,  but  the 


200  REMINISCENCES  BY  REV.  V.  S.  S.  COLES         1867 

Government  always  takes  part  with  the  bishops,  declining  to 
know  anything  about  Rome,  and  the  result  is  constant  acts  of 
tyranny  and  injustice.  There  was  a  good  deal  of  truth,  he 
said,  though  mingled  with  mischievous  intention,  in  Le  Maudit. 
Gallicanism  is  extinct.  Two  bishops  were  actually  deposed  for 
not  accepting  the  new  dogma.  Also  one  of  the  professors  in 
the  seminary  was  expunged  for  holding  Gallican  views.  The 
fact  is  that  the  bishops  find  that  nothing  but  Ultramontanism 
will  hold  against  the  Erastianism  of  the  day.  At  the  present 
time  there  is  not  a  potentate  who  favours  the  Church.  He  gave 
a  sad  picture  of  the  religious  condition  of  France.  The  lawyers 
are  unbelievers  (Voltairiens),  the  doctors  materialists,  the  bour- 
geoisie careless,  the  majority  never  confessing  from  the  day  of 
their  confirmation,  except  a  mere  show  of  it  at  marriage,  seldom 
sufficient  for  absolution,  till  they  die,  when  they  make  a  per- 
functory confession  in  order  to  be  respectably  buried.  If  the 
clergy  visit  they  are  told,  "We  are  delighted  to  see  you  as 
friends,  but  we  do  not  want  you  as  priests"  etc.  There  is  great 
difficulty  in  recruiting  the  priesthood.  The  mass  are  sons  of 
artisans  and  labourers,  the  best  are  sons  of  farmers.  In  the 
seminary  here  are  70  or  80,  not  sufficient  for  the  wants  of  the 
diocese,  which  contains  670  parishes.  Things  are  better  in  the 
country,  but  the  pay  is  very  little,  often  only  900  francs  per 
annum,  scarcely  enough  to  buy  food  and  raiment.  A  man  must 
be  very  gentle,  complaisant,  self-denying,  and  devoted.  I  longed 
to  ask  him  whence  he  sprang.  His  tastes,  talk,  and  intelligence 
and  manners  were  thoroughly  of  the  best.  He  was  fond  of 
heraldry,  architecture — had  a  keen  eye  for  stained  glass  and 
good  pictures.  Finally  he  gave  me  a  letter  of  introduction  to 
M.  1'Abbe  Parizet,  Chanoine  aumonier  de  l'H6pital  general  de 
Laon,  and  we  separated,  swearing  eternal  friendship.  .  .  . 

W.  J.  B.  TO  HIS  WIFE. 

E.HEIMS,    H6TEL   DU    LlON    D'OK,    Aug.    20,    1867. 

...  I  want  to  give  you  my  impressions  of  Laon  before 
something  else  drives  them  out  of  my  head.  .  .  .  You  have 
no  idea  of  the  magnificence  of  Laon.  There  it  stands  in  the 
midst  of  the  sandy  plain,  something  like  Windsor  Castle.  It 
is  a  most  picturesque  walled  town,  and  reminded  me  of 
Aubenas.  Formerly  it  was  'la  Laon  Sainte,'  from  the  heaps 


i86;  AMONG   THE   JESUITS  201 

of  churches  and  religious  Orders  which  filled  it.  You  will 
remember  it  as  the  battleground  of  Hugh  Capet  and  the 
Charlemagne  race,  then  the  endless  quarrels  between  the 
Communes,  who  seem  to  have  had  special  privileges,  and  the 
bishops  who  also  had  special  privileges,  and  wished  to  'parson 
'em  up  too  tight/  especially  one  Gaudry,  whom  the  people 
finally  murdered,  etc.,  etc.  .  .  .  My  friend  M.  1'Abbe  Ply  at 
Soissons  had  given  me  an  introduction  to  the  Aumonier  of 
the  Hospital.  I  went  to  his  abode,  but  he  had  gone  to  some 
sort  of  reunion  in  the  country.  I  then  resolved  to  betake 
myself  and  my  letter  to  the  Peres  Je*suites  who  inhabit  the 
ancient  Abbaye  de  S.  Vincent,  a  fine  bold  spur  once  strongly 
fortified,  directly  opposite  Laon,  and  connected  by  a  most 
exquisitely  beautiful  walk  along  the  old  fortifications.  The 
heat  was  tremendous,  and  I  could  find  no  response  to  my 
knocks.  At  last  I  heard  voices,  and  stumbled  upon  a  whole 
regiment  of  'freres  convers'  solacing  themselves  in  a  roughly 
built  summer-house.  I  gave  my  card,  and  was  ushered  into 
the  building.  After  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  an  intelligent  and 
kindly  man  of  about  forty  years  old  appeared,  accosted  me 
very  pleasantly,  and  conducted  me  over  the  place.  I  was 
there  for  two  hours  and  more.  Of  course  we  went  at  the  old 
story.  He  showed  me  a  rubbishy  account  of  the  conversion 
of  a  certain  Mr.  Pittar  from  the  Church  of  England,  written 
in  very  bad  taste,  and  as  weak  as  possible.  If  these  good 
people  knew  how  little  impression  that  sort  of  thing  produces 
on  the  mind  of  those  who  have  fought  the  thing  through, 
they  would  go  to  work  in  a  different  way.  His  great  point 
was  'One  Faith,'  'One  Church,'  'One  Pastor,'  'On  this 
rock  will  I  build  My  Church,"  etc.  A  Retreat  was  to  begin 
that  very  day.  About  forty  were  expected  of  the  neighbouring 
clergy,  and  my  friend  had  the  arranging  of  the  beds,  etc.  It 
amused  me  much  to  see  them  troop  in — much  as  we  do  at 
Cuddesdon — looking  for  their  rooms.  There  was  a  salutation 
consisting  of  an  approach  of  the  two  faces,  first  on  one  side, 
then  on  the  other — then  followed  the  pointing  out  of  the 
room,  and  a  kindly  "Vous  voila,  monsieur,"  as  each  was  suited, 
or  "  Voulez-vous  prendre  quelque  chose  ?"  "  Voulez-vous  diner1!" 
I  asked  if  I  might  join  myself  to  the  Retreat  for  two  or  three 
days  (it  lasted  a  week).  My  friend  in  the  kindest  way 


202  REMINISCENCES  BY  REV.  V.  S.  S.  COLES         1867 

promised  to  inquire  of  the  Father  who  gave  the  Retreat,  but 
evidently  was  doubtful  as  to  the  result;  and  finally,  though 
he  said  they  would  gladly  receive  me  for  a  'Retraite  par- 
ticuliere,'  which  of  course  was  not  what  I  wanted,  it  came  out 
that  the  Cures  and  Vicaires  present  at  the  Retreat  would 
have  thought  it  not  quite  the  thing  to  be  associated  with  a 
'ministre  protestant.'  He  wrote  a  very  kind  letter  in  my 
behalf  to  1'Abbe  Modeste  at  Rheims,  whom  I  shall  visit  by- 
and-bye.  .  .  . 

W.  J.  B.  TO  HIS  WIFE. 

H6TEL   DE   LA   VlLLE    DE   PARIS, 

STRASBOURG,  Aug.  27,  1867. 

...  I  have  now  got  a  regular  line  of  work  before  me,  from 
which  I  do  not  intend  to  swerve.  Before  I  say  more  of  this, 
I  must  tell  you  how  much  Rheims  Cathedral  satisfied  me. 
There  is  really  nothing  like  it,  according  to  my  idea.  It  rises 
in  perfect  proportion,  like  a  growth  from  the  earth.  Every 
bit  of  it  is  thought  out  and  carried  out^-the  west  porches, 
the  sides,  the  buttresses,  east  end,  and  general  ornamentation. 
...  I  went  up  to  the  top  with  a  very  agreeable  old  gentleman, 
the  concierge,  whose  son  is  a  coiffeur  in  Edimbourg.  He  left 
France,  said  my  friend,  because  he  could  not  bear  to  work  on 
Sundays.  It  is  very  delightful  to  me  to  get  to  the  top  of 
these  places  because  the  eye  ranges  over  all  those  old  historical 
battlegrounds,  and  you  can  picture  to  yourself  a  little  of  the 
past.  Of  course  I  had  the  good  Joan  of  Arc  before  me.  It 
seems  to  me  that  there  are  some  pages  of  history  for  which 
one  would  freely  give  one's  life  to  prevent  their  having  existed. 
How  those  brutes  of  English  could  burn  Joan  of  Arc,  I  cannot 
imagine,  and  when  one  says  English,  of  course  it  was  quite  as 
much  the  French.  .  .  .  Well — I  must  pass  on.  At  8  A.M.  I 
had  a  'rendezvous'  with  my  friend,  the  Pere  Modeste,  who 
in  the  kindest  way  selected  one  of  his  party  to  take  me  over 
the  ecclesiastical  institutions  of  Rheims.  The  Pere  who  went 
with  me  was  evidently  a  very  clever  man,  a  little  perhaps  over 
thirty.  He  could  talk  English,  French,  and  German,  and  was 
full  of  feeling  and  humour.  We  went  first  to  '  le  Bon  Pasteur ' 
whose  mother-house  is,  as  you  remember,  at  Angers.  There  was 
some  little  ceremony  but  no  real  difficulty  in  obtaining  per- 


1867  'LE    BON   PASTEUR'  203 

mission  from  '  le  Vicaire  Ge'ne'ral,'  a  very  pleasing  old  gentleman, 
from  whom  I  learnt  a  good  deal  as  to  their  modus  opera  ml i. 
He  said  that  at  first  they  took  every  applicant,  but  the  row 
of  1848  for  the  time  broke  up  their  house,  and  they  began 
again  on  better  principles,  refusing  the  worst,  and  confining 
themselves  to  those  who  had  not  gone  so  far  wrong.  The  bad 
ones,  he  said,  were  "  diables  incarne's "  when  they  became 
furious,  and  did  the  others  harm.  Then  we  went  to  the  house 
itself — a  good  spacious  building,  with  an  excellent  garden. 
The  Mother-Superior,  a  lady  of  high  family,  was  in  bad  health, 
but  her  deputy  took  us  over  the  place,  and  every  now  and 
then  a  nun  or  two  joined  us,  and  chatted.  The  system  seems 
much  freer  than  ours.  The  rooms  are  filled  with  beds,  and  a 
couple  of  '  consacrees '  penitents  who  have  given  themselves  to 
the  house  sleep  with  them,  while  a  Sister  has  a  room  at  the 
end.  They  are  engaged  much  as  ours  are,  in  washing,  sewing, 
cooking,  etc.  One  was  sullen,  and  wanted  to  go,  and  I  was 
struck  by  the  exact  similarity  of  her  looks  and  manner  to  ours 
under  like  circumstances — looking  on  the  ground,  picking  at 
her  clothes,  etc.  Among  the  younger  ones  was  a  poor  little 
thing  of  nine  years  old  who  had  run  away  with  a  lad  from 
her  parents.  The  good  Pere  said  a  few  words  in  each  room, 
and  then  all,  Sisters  and  penitents,  knelt  for  his  blessing.  We 
saw  another  institution — educational — kept  by  the  Freres 
Chretiens,  and  then  I  went  home  and  had  my  dejeuner  along 
with  the  Peres  Jesuites.  Of  course  all  this  was  intermingled 
with  hot  and  interminable  discussions  which  amuse  them, 
improve  my  French,  and  do  no  harm.  I  told  them  that  '  1'esprit 
anglais  est  tres  inconsequent.'  "  Mais  soyez  consequent — soyez 
consequent,"  shouted  my  good  friends,  and  we  all  laughed 
heartily.  .  .  . 

In  the  carriage  was  a  chatty  man,  who  told  me  that  he 
was  inspector  of  all  the  schools  in  that  part  of  the  country, 
Catholic,  Protestant,  etc.,  etc.,  an  'Israelite.'  Pleasant— would 
it  not  be — to  have  our  schools  inspected  by  an  Israelite? 
Unfortunately  he  got  out  at  Bar-le-Duc,  and  I  missed  what  I 
much  desired,  a  conversation  with  one  of  the  other  side.  .  .  . 
I  went  out  to  find  the  Strasbourg  Peres  Jesuites,  and  thence- 
only  think  of  this— I  was  actually  taken  to  'Monseigneur 
1'Eveque,'  whom  I  had  first  seen  figuring  in  one  of  the  Emperor's 


204  REMINISCENCES  BY  REV.  V.  S.  S.  COLES         1867 

carriages,  and  I  was  honoured  by  half  an  hour  of  'causerie' 
with  him.  He  is  a  regular  'jolly  old  brick,'  as  you  will  see 
when  you  have  seen  the  photograph  which  I  have  purchased 
in  honour  of  the  visit.  He  was  very  affable — was  beginning 
his  tour  of  Confirmations,  thirty  leagues  off,  to-morrow,  else 
would  have,  etc.  Gave  me  free  permission  to  circulate  through 
all  the  works  of  piety  in  the  Diocese.  Explained  to  me  the 
condition  of  Alsace  where  are  1,000,000  of  inhabitants  of  whom 
200,000  are  Protestants — told  me  how  he  chaffed  the  Protestant 
'  Surintendant,'  one  Braun,  on  the  subject  of  mixed  marriages, 
and  begged  me  to  call  again  if  ever  I  came  to  Strasbourg. 
'Voila!'  .  .  .] 

But  all  the  while  he  felt  a  power  among  these  dis- 
appointed Fathers,  to  the  attraction  of  which  his 
conscience  offered  no  opposition.  He  saw  no  reason 
why  he  should  join  them  in  making  the  Pope  the 
centre  of  their  system,  but  he  felt  that  principles  he 
had  long  accepted  would  justify  him  in  seeking  to 
imitate  the  devotion  which  made  the  Blessed  Sacra- 
ment the  centre  of  their  life.  On  his  return  to 
England  this  thought,  if  I  am  not  mistaken,  was  very 
prominent  in  his  mind  and  conversation.  He  did 
not  hesitate  to  regret  the  law  of  the  English  Church 
which  made  reservation  impossible,  except  by  what 
seemed  to  him  to  be  a  sophistical  disobedience.  It 
was  however  at  this  time  that  he  taught  the  Sisters 
to  value  a  pause  of  some  minutes  after  the  Consecra- 
tion and  before  Communion,  -during  which  special 
adoration  might  be  offered  to  our  Lord,  present  in 
His  glorified  humanity  under  the  Sacramental  veils. 

It  was  his  convictions  on  such  points  as  these, 
which,  in  his  case,  as  in  that  of  Dr.  Liddon,  did  not 
allow  of  a  perfect  sympathy  and  co-operation  with 


1867  RELATIONS   TO   RITUALISM  205 

the  great  Bishop  of  Oxford.  No  doubt  in  both  cases 
they  also  retarded  the  promotion  which  would  else 
have  been  so  natural  at  a  much  earlier  time  than  that 
at  which,  to  some  degree,  it  came. 

I  cannot  leave  the  mention  of  Oxford  without 
giving  myself  the  pleasure  of  noting  that  in  later 
years  Butler's  habitual  host  in  the  University  was 
the  one  man  who  so  eminently  carried  on  the  tradi- 
tions of  refinement  and  uncompromising  faith,  which 
marked  the  early  Tractarians,  George  Noel  Freeling. 
I  am  not  sure  whether  the  Dean  ever  stayed  in 
Oxford  after  his  beautiful  presence  had  been  with- 
drawn ; l  they  were  not  very  long  parted,  and  their 
rest  is  one. 

But,  if  William  Butler's  thoroughness  kept  him  in 
the  ranks  of  the  unpopular,  it  must  be  plainly  stated 
that  this  does  not  mean  that  he  threw  in  his  lot  with 
the  Ritualists.  On  the  contrary,  as  soon  as  they 
became  a  well-defined  party,  he  stood  aloof  from 
them.  His  action  in  this  respect  turns  principally  on, 
or  may  be  illustrated  by,  his  relations  to  Alexander 
Mackonochie.  The  future  Vicar  of  St.  Alban's,  Hoi- 
born,  came,  I  think  as  his  second  curacy,  to  Wantage, 
and  remained  there  until  he  was  chosen  by  Mr. 
Hubbard  to  lead  the  mission  of  which  he  was  about  to 
provide  the  external  apparatus,  into  the  slums  of 
Holborn.  The  Vicar  used  to  say  that  if  Mackonochie 
had  gone  straight  to  St.  Alban's  from  Wantage, 
instead  of  spending  an  interval  at  St.  George's 
Mission — where  the  pea-shooters  and  profanity  of  the 

1  He  was  Canon  Bright's  guest  at  Christ  Church  in  Oct.,  1892. 


206  REMINISCENCES  BY  REV.  V.  S.  S.  COLES         1869 

Protestant  mob  tended  to  drive  him  into  whatever 
was  most  opposed  to  them — the  result  would  have 
been  other  than  it  has  been.  During  the  early  years 
of  St.  Alban's  the  Vicar  of  Wantage  preached  there 
from  time  to  time.  On  one  occasion  bouquets  were 
provided  not  only  for  the  choir-boys,  but  for  the 
clergy,  possibly  as  a  step  to  the  wreaths  of  roses  with 
which  the  Canons  of  St.  Paul's  were  anciently  decked 
on  Corpus  Christi  Day.  The  Vicar  related  to  us 
when  he  came  back  to  Wantage  how  he  had  furtively 
laid  down  his  nosegay  on  a  seat  during  the  procession, 
and  how  it  had  been  gravely  restored  to  him  by  the 
Ceremoniarius.  '  Tan  turn  religio  potuit.'  Before  long 
the  developments  at  St.  Alban's  went  beyond  the 
lines  which  Butler  could  conscientiously  accept,  but 
his  friendship  for  Mackonochie  was  never  shaken. 
He  regretted  the  introduction  of  the  mid-day  Choral 
Eucharist.  To  him,  as  to  Mr.  Bennett  of  Frome,  it 
seemed  fitting  that  the  Divine  Mysteries  should  not 
be  exposed  to  the  possible  irreverence  and  almost 
certain  unpreparedness  of  an  eleven  o'clock  con- 
gregation. At  Wantage,  as  at  Frome,  the  Choral 
Celebration  was  early,  and  that  which  followed 
matins  was  plain  Celebration,  intended  for  aged  and 
infirm  communicants.  It  may  be  questioned  whether 
the  missionary  power  of  the  mid-day  High  Service, 
the  experience  of  which  is  perhaps  the  best  argument 
in  its  favour,  ever  came  under  the  notice  of  the 
Vicar.  Certainly  there  were  other  matters  con- 
nected with  the  ritualistic  development  which  would 
have  made  him  disinclined  to  look  favourably  upon 


1870  RELATIONS   TO   RITUALISM  207 

it,  though  as  to  the  privilege  and  benefit  of  assistance 
at  the  altar  when  not  actually  receiving,  he  had 
no  doubt  whatever.1 

It  was,  I  think,  in  the  summer  of  1870  that  the 
Vicar  spent  Trinity  Sunday  in  London,  and  went 
with  a  friend,  for  whose  opinion  he  had  a  great 
respect,  and  who  was  strongly  opposed  to  the  new 
departure,  to  see  some  ritualistic  churches.  I  think 
they  chose  St.  Michael's,  Shoreditch,  in  the  morn- 
ing ;  certainly  they  went  in  the  evening  to  St. 
Paul's,  Lorrimore  Square.  Here  notice  was  given 
of  the  observance  of  the  Feast  of  Corpus  Christi 
on  the  following  Thursday,  and  the  preacher  ex- 
plained that,  although  it  was  not  a  feast  marked 
in  the  Prayer  Book,  the  origin  of  festivals  had 
been  their  spontaneous  local  observance,  and  it  was 
fitting  that  the  desire  for  a  festival  of  the  Holy 
Sacrament  should  give  rise  to  a  development  of  this 
kind  from  local  centres.  I  have  been  accustomed 
to  connect  the  Vicar's  dislike  of  Eitualism  with  that 
Sunday. 

It  would  have  been  difficult  for  him,  in  the 
midst  of  his  unceasing  work,  to  have  entered  upon 
a  thorough  study  of  ritual,  and  impossible  for  him 
to  have  taken  the  matter  up  without  thoroughly 
studying  it.  Now  and  then  the  fitness  of  some 

1He  wrote  in  the  "Parish  Journal,"  on  April  2nd,  1869  :  "I  should, 
indeed,  be  grieved  if  'non-communicating  attendance'  were  to  be 
substituted  for  regular  and  frequent  participation  of  the  Bread  from 
heaven.  We  should  gain  little  if  the  sacrifice  were  offered,  and 
the  partaking  of  the  sacrifice  ignored  or  set  aside."  But  see 
Appendix  II. 


208  REMINISCENCES  BY  REV.  V.  S.  S.  COLES         1872 

isolated  point  of  ritual,  from  its  connexion  with  doc- 
trine, struck  his  imagination  and  his  devotion.  I 
remember,  for  instance,  that  when  during  his  illness 
after  an  accident  in  1872  I  had  the  privilege  of  giving 
him  Holy  Communion,  he  received  vested  in  a  stole, 
having  learned,  as  he  said,  that  every  Communion 
of  a  priest  had  something  of  a  sacrificial  character. 
But,  on  the  whole,  he  did  not  take  to  the  ritual 
movement.  I  think  he  never  felt  as  much  at  home 
in  a  chasuble  as  in  a  surplice  and  stole,  and  the 
elaboration  of  details  of  ritual  was  thoroughly  dis- 
tasteful to  him. 

On  one  point  connected  with  this  matter  I  feel 
at  a  loss  to  describe  his  position  :  indeed,  I  am 
inclined  to  think  that  he  never  quite  defined  it 
himself ;  I  mean  I  do  not  know  what  to  say  as  to 
his  sympathies  during  the  ritual  prosecutions.  It 
is  quite  certain  that  he  looked  upon  that  interpre- 
tation of  the  royal  supremacy  which  justifies  the 
ecclesiastical  jurisdiction  of  the  Sovereign  exercised 
through  the  Judicial  Committee  of  the  Privy  Council, 
as  impossible,  and  irreconcileable  with  a  belief  in  the 
spiritual  authority  of  the  Church.  He  had  known 
long  before  I  knew  him  the  strain  of  the  Gorham 
decision,  which  cost  him  the  loss  of  H.  E.  Manning, 
and  with  him  of  Miss  Lockhart,  who  was  first  Mother 
Superior  of  the  Home.  His  reason  for  not  following 
them  did  not  lie  in  any  acquiescence  in  the  decision 
of  the  Privy  Council,  but  in  his  heartfelt  repudiation 
of  the  moral  authority  of  that  decision.  He  delighted 
to  quote  Mr.  Keble's  strong  statement,  that  if  the 


1870  PRIVY   COUNCIL  JUDGEMENTS  209 

Church  of  England  did  not  destroy  the  Privy  Council 
the  Privy  Council  would  destroy  it ;  he  did  not 
hesitate  to  describe  the  Church  of  England  as  a 
bleeding  heart  from  which  the  life  was  flowing  through 
the  wounds  inflicted  by  the  Erastian  action  of  the 
State. 

So  far  as  the  Church  has  now  been  relieved  in 
any  degree  of  the  evils  arising  from  the  Privy 
Council's  jurisdiction,  it  has  been  in  consequence 
of  the  resistance  to  the  ritual  judgements,  and  their 
final  discrediting  in  the  case  of  the  Bishop  of  Lincoln. 
It  is,  however,  the  fact  that,  during  the  anxieties  of 
the  Purchas  and  Bidsdale  cases,  the  Vicar  of  Wantage 
was  far  less  keen  as  to  these  particular  instances  than 
he  had  been  on  the  general  principle  brought  into 
prominence  by  the  Gorham  judgement,  and  later  by 
the  prosecution  of  Mr.  Bennett.  What  I  believe  he 
felt  was  that  while  the  claim  of  spiritual  jurisdiction 
by  the  Crown  was  as  disastrous  as  he  had  always 
maintained  it  to  be,  dignity  and  the  proportion  of 
truth  suffered  through  the  emphasis  laid  on  points  of 
ceremonial.  It  was  no  point  of  conscience  with  him 
to  resist  these  decisions,  though  it  was  not  a  point 
of  conscience  to  accept  them.  At  some  moments  I 
think  it  must  be  allowed  that  he  tended  to  the 
opinion  that  on  matters  not  essential,  even  though 
belonging  to  the  spiritual  domain,  the  decision  of  the 
State  should  be  treated  with  respect. 

[His  views  on  the  relations  of  Church  and  State, 
especially  as  bearing  on  the  subject  of  Ritualism, 
were  expressed  at  various  times  to  Canon  Liddon  and 


210  REMINISCENCES  BY  REV.  V.  S.  S.  COLES         1870 

others,  and  near  the  end  of  his  life,  to  the  Very  Rev. 
Randall  T.  Davidson,  Dean  of  Windsor,  now  Bishop 
of  Winchester. 

W.  J.  B.  TO  KEY.  CANON  LIDDON. 

WANTAGE  VICARAGE,  Dec.  5,  1870. 

While  candidates  for  Confirmation  are  coming  and  going,  I 
must  try  to  sandwich  in  a  few  lines  suggested  by  your  letter 
of  this  morning.  I  quite  agree  with  you  that  the  judgement 
on  A.  H.  M.,  viewed  from  a  legal  point,  is  harsh  and  unfair. 
And  you  know  how  for  years  the  Court  of  Final  Appeal  has 
been  in  my  opinion  the  great  o-Kai/SaAov  in  the  way  of  the 
Church — I  may  say  even  also  of  the  State — for  what  can  be 
more  [illegible]  than  for  the  State  to  incite  her  people  to  accept 
and  believe  in  a  man-made  religion — and  to  this  practically  the 
decisions  come.  But  my  quarrel,  so  to  call  it,  with  our  dear 
old  friend,  is  quite  apart  from  the  P.  C.  I  complain  (and  I 

think  that  people  like  Lord ,  a  type  of  a  class  not  the  worst, 

complain  also  with  justice)  that  he  is  trying  to  force  into 
the  use  of  the  Church  of  England  that  which  the  Church  in 
no  way  authorises,  that  he  is  making  his  own  private  fancy 
the  rule  of  public  ministrations.  In  other  words,  he  is  acting 
in  the  very  most  Protestant  fashion.  Of  course  he  would  say 
that  he  went  by  the  rule  of  the  Catholic  Church,  etc.,  but 
unless  he  is  prepared  to  assert  that  Rome,  and  nothing  but 
Rome,  teaches  that  rule,  I  cannot  see  where  he  finds  it.  I 
maintain  that  no  work  can  stand  which  abjures  obedience.  If 
I  cannot  obey  where  I  am,  I  should  think  it  my  duty  to  go 
where  I  could  obey.  Individuals  are  far  too  weak  and  ignorant  to 
be  permitted  to  take  lines  of  their  own,  except  within  certain 
specified  limits.  And  it  seems  to  me  that  this  determination 
to  make  out  a  new  religion — which  this  really  is — e.g.  the  en- 
forcement of  fasting  Communion,  the  making  confession  a 
matter  of  salvation,  or  at  least  a  duty  for  every  soul — besides 
a  heap  of  ritualistic  practices,  some  of  the  queerest  kind, 
which  he  introduces  into  the  services,  must  naturally  kindle  a 
correlative  antagonism  which  will  not  stop  till  it  has  caused 
great  damage  far  and  wide.  And  I  own  that  I  find  myself  in 
a  trying  dilemma. 


1871  RELATIONS    OF   CHURCH   AND   STATE  211 

I  sympathise  with  all  my  heart  in  the  demonstration  of 
Catholic  and  Sacramental  teaching  which  A.  H.  M.'s  line,  as  I 
think,  only  simulates.  I  cannot  express  my  opinion  without  the 
certainty  of  being  misunderstood,  yet  I  feel  it  untrue  to  throw 
myself  heartily  into  the  ranks  of  the  defenders,  as  I  gladly 
would  have  done  if  only  I  could  believe  his  method  to  be  loyal 
and  true.  I  am  writing,  as  you  will  perceive,  somewhat 
hurriedly  and  dishevelledly — please  remember  in  strict  privacy 
to  you. 

W.  J.  B.  TO  

March  7,  1871. 

I  have  thought  very  carefully,  and  I  trust  without  any  sort  of 
personal  feeling,  on  the  serious  issue  which  lies  before  us.  I 
come  to  the  conclusion  that  I  have  only  two  alternatives  between 
which  to  choose.  I  must  either  be  ready  to  resign  my  work, 
or  ready,  if  compelled,  to  obey.  It  seems  to  me  almost  im- 
moral to  chance  what  may  come — to  say  if  we  hold  together 
'  they '  will  never  venture  to  attack  so  large  a  party,  and  the 
like — and  to  comfort  oneself  with  this.  It  is  at  least  possible 
•  that  '  they '  may  do  so ;  and  I  am  bound  to  express  to  those  who 
ask  me,  and  to  settle  moreover  for  myself,  what  I  should  do 
if  I  am  attacked.  This  is  why  I  state  distinctly  now,  before 
the  crisis  arises,  that  I  should  not  consider  myself  as  acting 
rightly  in  the  sight  of  God  if  I  were  deliberately  to  say,  "I 
shall  stand  firm,"  supposing  that  by  firmness  is  meant  the  giving 
up  of  that  to  which  I  believe  God  has  sent  me,  rather  than  that 
I  should  consent  to  celebrate  at  the  N.  end  of  the  altar.  I 
ask  myself  which  will  most  damage  the  work  of  God — the 
separating  myself  from  those  precious  souls  among  whom  I 
have  ministered  for  so  many  years,  and  leaving  them  to  the 
sort  of  teaching  which  in  all  probability,  under  the  circum- 
stances of  the  case,  would  follow  mine — or  the  yielding  to  what 
in  fact,  when  you  come  to  analyse  it,  is  brute  force,  in  a  matter 
which  only  indirectly  affects  the  truth — I  say  the  former.  If 
the  doctrine  were  directly  impugned,  the  case  would  be  very 
different.  But  I  can  teach  it,  even  though  at  some  disadvantage, 
in  many  other  ways,  even  supposing  my  position  at  the  altar  to 
be  interfered  with.  Of  course  if  I  were  bidden  not  to  teach  it 
at  all,  I  could  have  but  one  answer  to  give — and  to  teach  it 
all  the  more. 


212  REMINISCENCES  BY  REV.  V.  S.  S.  COLES         1877 

I  am  very  sorry  to  differ  from  you  and  others  as  to  the 
wisest  and  best  course.  But  I  cannot  set  aside  what  my  con- 
science dictates;  and  you  will,  I  know,  give  me  credit  for 
dulness  and  ignorance  if  you  will,  but  at  least  for  honesty  of 
purpose.  For  the  present  I  shall  certainly  go  on  as  I  have  gone 
on  for  the  last  twenty-four  years,  and  the  arrangement  of  the 
Church  is  such  that  it  is  very  unlikely  that  any  one  would  be 
idiotic  enough  to  wish  me  to  celebrate  at  the  N.  end,  where 
I  could  not  possibly  be  seen.  But  I  do  not  choose  to  shelter 
myself  under  this,  and  therefore  I  speak  my  mind. 

\V.  J.  B.  TO  CANON  T.  T.  CARTER. 

WANTAGE  VICARAGE,  March  19,  1877. 

I  do  not  feel  that  my  opinion  is  worth  anything,  but  as 
you  wish  for  it,  I  will  try  to  state  shortly  what  occurs  to  me. 
Certainly  in  olden  days  those  who  professed  High  Church 
principles  paid  great  deference  to  bishops.  Witness  the  giving 
up  of  the  '  British  Critic ' — so  very  able  and  useful  as  it  was — 
at  the  desire  of  Bishop  Bagot ;  and  I  remember  well  how,  at 
the  Consecration  of  Hursley  Church  (1848),  Mr.  Keble  made 
all  kinds  of  arrangements  which  were  distasteful  to  himself, 
to  meet  the  wishes  of  Bishop  Sumner. 

It  is  quite  true  that  the  bishops  have  for  the  most  part 
acted,  as  we  think,  in  a  cowardly  and  one-sided  manner;  but 
I  do  not  agree  that  even  this  exonerates  us  from  certain  duties 
which  we  owe  to  them.  Is  there  not  a  certain  Sacramental 
strength  given  to  order,  which  may  be  called  the  promise  of 
the  Fifth  Commandment? 

I  am  greatly  in  favour  of  Liddon's  suggestion — not  his  how- 
ever only — of  endeavouring  to  get  at  least  points  of  doctrine 
ruled  by  the  collective  Episcopate.  I  believe  that  they  would 
be  'guided  into  truth.'  In  regard  to  individual  bishops,  for 
my  own  part  I  have  always  accepted  the  directions  of  our 
bishops.  Certainly  it  may  be  said  that  men  like  Bishops 
Wilberforce  and  Mackarness  are  exceptions.  But  I  am  quite 
sure  that  if  any  bishop,  in  whose  Diocese  I  was,  had  bidden 
me  take  down  the  pictures  of  the  Stations  from  the  walls  of 
my  church,  I  should  have  obeyed  him  without  demur,  and  I 
should  have  believed  that  in  doing  so — somehow  or  other — 


1889  RELATIONS    OF   CHURCH   AND    STATE  213 

the  work  would  have  been  more  prospered  than  if  I  had 
retained  them  against  his  will.  I  cannot  help  thinking  that 
if  some  of  our  friends  had  yielded  in  such  matters  as  this, 
the  graver  questions  of  the  position  of  the  celebrant,  etc., 
would  never  have  been  raised.  The  P.W.R.  Act  no  doubt 
puts  the  bishop  in  a  false  position.  It  makes  him  the  in- 
strument of  an  Act  of  Parliament  officer,  instead  of  a  father 
in  the  Church.  But  it  seems  to  me  that  that  is  his  affair. 
We  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  action  of  the  State  law, 
but  with  the  bishop.  In  his  inner  consciousness  he  may  be 
Lord  Penzance's  servant,  but  outwardly  he  speaks  to  us  as 
a  bishop. 

I  do  not  wish  to  speak  positively,  or  to  tie  myself  down 
to  an  opinion,  but  I  incline  to  think  that  I  should  obey  the 
bishop  in  all  but  questions  of  doctrine.  There  my  own  con- 
science must  be  master. 

W.  J.  B.  TO  VERY  REV.  RANDALL  T.  DAVIDSON, 
DEAN  OF  WINDSOR, 

THE  DEANERY,  LINCOLN,  April  3,  1889. 

I  have  read  your  letter  to  the  Times,  and  I  heartily  recognise 
the  fair  and  kindly  spirit  in  which  it  is  written.  It  seems 
however  strange  to  me  that  a  man  so  clear-sighted  as  you 
are  should  not  perceive  that  in  the  sort  of  challenge  which 
you  throw  out  to  the  High  Church  leaders  to  formulate  their 
conception  of  a  satisfactory  final  court,  you  effectually  cut  the 
ground  from  under  their  feet  by  requiring  that  the  proposed 
court  shall  be  such  as  will  satisfy  and  pass  through  Parliament. 
It  is,  I  fear,  quite  beyond  all  hope  that  Parliament  will  ever 
consent  to  the  kind  of  court  which  could  possibly  content 
those  who  look  upon  the  Church  as  a  divine  institution. 
Abstractedly  there  is  no  reason  why  in  England  as  well  as 
in  Scotland  an  Established  Church  should  not  manage  its  own 
concerns.  But  in  England  the  State  has  got  the  Church  in  a 
vice,  and  will  not  release  it,  except  by  the  action  of  dis- 
establishment. All  the  influences  of  the  country  would  oppose 
any  step  towards  rendering  real  liberty  to  the  Church;  not 
least  of  all  a  very  large  proportion  of  her  own  laity  and 
clergy.  The  High  Church  party  is  in  a  most  pitiful  minority, 


214  REMINISCENCES  BY  REV.  V.  S.  S.  COLES         1889 

and  always  must  be  so.  Its  teaching  goes  directly  against  the 
idea  which  the  great  majority  of  people  form  respecting  religion. 
It  is,  in  a  word,  sacerdotalism,  the  one  thing  that  they  hate,, 
because  it  opposes  itself  to  human  pride  and  human  sensuality. 
It  is  useless  to  assert — as  may  be  asserted  truly — that  the 
Prayer  Book  and  Catechism  are  on  our  side.  Plymouth 
Brethrenisni  is  practically  the  religion  of  the  land,  of  all  except 
the  Roman  Catholics,  not  of  course  actually  professed,  but  the 
fair  logical  outcome  of  the  principles  which  men  hold.  As 
things  are,  the  Prayer  Book  and  Catechism  give  to  such  as 
myself  a  fair  chance  of  holding  one's  own,  and  personally  I 
should  be  quite  content  to  avoid  all  litigious  matters,  except 
perhaps  what  is  called  the  Eastward  position,  and  work  on, 
as  I  have  worked  for  many  years,  teaching  through  them  that 
which  I  believe  to  be  true.  I  wish  with  all  my  heart  that 
others  had  done  or  would  do  the  same.  I  believe  that  these 
great  results  would  have  followed.  We  could  have  done  the 
work,  so  far  as  it  is  possible  to  do  it,  and  kept  the  persecutors 
at  bay.  But  the  party  called  Ritualist  would  not  be  patient, 
in  fact  in  many  cases  have  no  real  love  for  the  Church,  rather 
like  chaos  and  anarchy,  always  crave  for  KCUVOTC/DOV  TI,  and 
have  dragged  us  into  the  mess.  It  is  they  who  have  brought 
into  discussion  this  question  of  the  court,  and  forced  the 
Church  to  face  it.  I  remember  too  well  the  Gorham  decision 
of  1850.  It  was  very  startling.  But  while  it  upheld  in  his 
preferment  a  man  of  unsound  doctrine,  it  did  not  go  so  far 
as  'quemlibet  occidere  populariter' — to  give  wrong  judgement 
against  any  one  in  order  to  please  the  people.  It  certainly 
watered  down  the  plain  teaching  of  the  Baptismal  office,  but 
it  did  not  punish  clergy  for  following  the  direct  orders  of 
the  Rubrics  and  the  previous  decisions  of  the  Council  itself. 
It  is  this  burning  sense  of  injustice  which  has  stirred  up  many 
hearts,  and  I  see  no  way  out  of  the  difficulty  so  long  as  this 
court  continues  to  give  such  judgements. 

I  dread  Disestablishment  with  all  my  heart,  because  I  know 
pretty  well  what  the  result  of  it  would  be.  It  would  throw  all 
power  into  the  hands  of  a  laity  who,  although  no  such  ignor- 
amuses or  such  tyrants  as  the  Irish  laity,  would  nevertheless 
very  materially  narrow  the  liberty  which  is  now  enjoyed  or 
maintained.  The  Ritualist  party  would  at  once  find  their 


1889  RELATIONS   OF   CHURCH   AND   STATE  215 

position  intolerable,  and  so  would  many  who  are  not  Ritualists 
but  are  High  Churchmen  ;  and  as  a  choice  between  two  evils,  the 
supremacy  of  ignorant  Protestant  laity  and  that  of  the  Pope, 
many  would  prefer  Rome.  People  had  better  realise  the  fact, 
viz.  that  Rome  would  be  the  real  gainer.  The  Church  of 
England,  so  far  as  one  can  judge,  would  sink  to  the  level  where 
it  stands  in  the  Colonies,  i.e.  a  secondrate  or  thirdrate  sect.  Her 
ministers  badly  paid  and  hardly  dealt  with  would  no  longer 
count  as  gentlemen,  enthusiasm  would  die  out,  and  although  it 
might  drag  on  a  somewhat  unhonoured  existence,  it  would  no 
longer  be  the  Church  of  the  people. 

The  best  solution  of  the  difficulty,  so  far  as  I  can  see,  is 
that  such  a  judgement  may  be  given  as  shall  quell  these  efforts 
of  the  Church  Association  to  bully  and  destroy  that  with  which 
they  disagree.  I  believe  that  if  these  attacks  were  once  for  all 
firmly  checked  the  present  stress  and  tension  would  be  relieved. 
I  am  confident  that  the  clergy  who  would  grievously  transgress 
would  be  so  few  as  to  be  outside  of  consideration.  The  vast 
majority  would  be  content  to  be  guided  by  the  Prayer  Book, 
their  conscience,  and  the  wish  of  their  congregations. 

The  Church  Association  folk  are  not  candid.  They  pretend 
zeal  for  the  Prayer  Book  now,  because  it  suits  their  turn. 
Formerly  they  mobbed  Mr.  Courtenay  of  Exeter  to  death,  and 
drove  Mr.  Bennett  from  Knightsbridge,  because  they  obeyed  the 
Rubrics  and  the  Bishops  of  London  and  Exeter  who  wished 
to  maintain  the  Rubrics.  What  these  men  really  want  is  to 
stamp  out  what  they  call  Sacerdotalism,  which  has  as  fair  a  claim 
as  their  own  to  find  a  place  among  us.  Keep  these  men  from 
mischief,  and  all  will,  I  believe,  be  well;  bating  of  course  the 
differences  and  anomalies  which  cannot  fail  to  arise  where  some 
15,000  men  are  concerned. 

I  have  written  nearly  as  long  a  letter  as  your  own.  I  trust 
that  as  I  felt  constrained  to  read  yours,  you  will  not  call  me  by 
evil  names  for  asking  you  to  read  my  reply. 

THE  VERY  REV.  RANDALL  T.  DAVIDSON  TO  W.  J.  B. 

Private.  4th  April,  1889,  DEANERY,  WINDSOR  CASTLE. 

I  am  grateful  to  you  for  your  most  interesting  and  important 
letter.  I  only  wish  you  would  say  publicly,  either  in  a  letter  to 


216  REMINISCENCES  BY  REV.  V.  S.  S.  COLES         1889 

the  Times  or  otherwise,  what  you  have  said  privately.  I  cannot 
see  that  the  position  you  take  up  corresponds  in  the  least  to  the 
position  of  those  whom  I  have  tried  to  get  an  answer  from.  You 
feel,  as  indeed  I  do  myself,  that  the  present  final  court  is  unsatis- 
factory. Our  difference  as  to  its  unsatisfactoriness  would  be  a 
matter  of  degree.  But,  unless  I  misunderstand  you,  you  are  so 
far  prepared  to  make  the  best  of  a  difficult  position  that  you  do 
not  desire  in  the  meantime  to  fly  in  the  face  of  the  existing 
authority,  such  as  it  is,  and  to  flout  it  and  jeer  at  it  before  the 
eyes  of  the  public.  You  feel  as  I  do,  that  it  is  possible  to  teach 
all  true  doctrine  about  the  Church's  rights  and  authority  without 
defying  unnecessarily  the  powers  that  be.  My  '  challenge,'  since 
you  call  it  so,  though  I  did  not  use  the  word,  was  certainly  not 
directed  to  any  one  who  holds  that  position.  If  I  seemed  to 
include  all  such,  I  must  have  expressed  myself  awkwardly.  I 
believe  incalculable  good  might  come  from  such  an  one  as  your- 
self speaking  out  about  the  impracticableness  of  the  extreme 
men;  but  it  would  be  an  unpopular  thing  to  do,  and  it  is 
perhaps  not  fair  to  ask  you  for  such  an  utterance,  not  that  you 
would  mind  the  unpopularity,  but  it  might  lessen  your  good 
influence  with  some  of  your  friends. 

I  am,  as  you  may  imagine,  half  buried  in  the  letters  I  have 
received  upon  the  subject.  I  wish  most  of  my  correspondents 
expressed  their  meaning  as  clearly  as  you  do.] 

These  disconnected  remarks  have  started  from  the 
time  when  I  came  to  Wantage  before  my  Ordina- 
tion, and  record  impressions  which,  though  matured 
later,  have  their  roots  in  that  time.  I  ought  to 
ask  myself  what  can  be  contributed  from  my 
memories  of  my  two  years  service  at  Wantage, 
from  Advent  1869  to  the  beginning  of  1872? 

The  Vicar's  invitation  came  with  most  welcome 
kindness,  when  I  had  disappointed  his  hopes  for  me 
of  a  good  class  in  the  final  schools.  He  knew  well 
that  I  had  not  worked  as  I  ought,  and  no  one 
appreciated  better  the  value  of  a  good  degree.  I 


1869  VICAR  AND   CURATES  217 

had  dreaded  his  displeasure,  and  his  generous  offer 
of  work  at  Wantage,  without  a  word  of  blame,  was 
one  of  the  most  comforting  things  I  have  ever 
experienced.  So  I  went  to  Cuddesdon  already 
accepted  for  Wantage,  and  had  the  good  fortune 
while  there  to  have  some  hand  in  persuading 
Herbert  Woodward1  to  give  up  the  idea  of  another 
curacy  he  was  thinking  of,  and  to  look  forward  to 
joining  the  Wantage  staff.  For  my  share  in  this 
at  any  rate,  the  Vicar  would  not  have  repented  of 
his  kindness. 

As  to  my  own  relations  with  the  Vicar,  I  think  I 
can  sum  up  my  experiences  in  the  two  words,  strictness 
and  confidence.  It  was  a  strict  standard  of  life  that  he 
set  before  us  ;  he  expected  it  to  be  strictly  observed  ; 
wrhere  he  felt  that  it  helped  us,  he  even  required 
a  somewhat  strict  account.  But  along  with  this, 
he  trusted  us  in  a  way  that  could  not  but  win 
trust  in  return.  We  were  left  free  to  conduct  our 
school  classes,  to  preach  our  sermons,  even  to  arrange 
(in  my  case)  for  Charlton  Confirmation  classes  as 
we  thought  best.  This  combination  of  strictness 
and  confidence  had  the  effect  of  making  us  feel  that, 
while  we  were  still  very  young,  and  needing  a  hand 
over  us,  we  had  received  an  office  which  he  respected, 
and  to  which  he  gave  its  due.  As  soon  as  we  were 
ordained  priests,  he  was  careful  to  give  us  our  turns 
in  celebrating,  reserving  however  the  right  to  take 
the  place  of  the  celebrant  if  he  was  at  all  late.  He 
took  me  himself  to  many  of  the  houses  in  Grove 

1Now  Precentor  of  Worcester  Cathedral. 


2i8  REMINISCENCES  BY  REV.  V.  S.  S.  COLES         1870 

Street  which  were  to  be  in  my  district,  and  pointed 
out  I  think,  one  or  two  which  I  was  to  make  a 
new  start  with,  as  they  were  more  or  less  offended 
with  him. 

In  Lent  the  Vicar  came  down  and  started  some 
mission  services  in  the  Grove  Street  chapel.  His 
sermon  remains  in  my  mind  more  distinctly  than 
any  other  I  ever  heard  him  preach.  (I  was  seldom 
in  the  parish  church  on  Sundays.)  It  was  very 
characteristic;  a  powerful  translation  into  easy  form 
of  the  beginning  of  the  Ignatian  exercises,  on  the 
purpose  of  God  for  each  man's  life.  "  You  could 
not  be  in  a  better  place  for  your  salvation  than 
you  find  yourself  in,  by  God's  appointment." 

We  met  every  day  in  the  Vicar's  study  at  one 
o'clock,  and  sometimes  waited  for  him,  as  his  work 
at  the  Home  was  growing,  and  kept  him  longer 
than  he  wished.  He  would  rush  in,  talk  to  us 
while  he  washed  his  hands,  arrange  a  number  of 
details,  lay  his  finger  on  some  of  our  weak  points, 
make  a  joke  or  two,  tell  us  news  (which  he  always 
seemed  to  find  time  to  get  at),  and  finally,  as  I 
have  already  said,  pass  with  unfeigned  reverence, 
but  unabated  energy,  into  the  Oratory  for  Sext. 
After  dinner  there  was  another  conference  and 
Nones.  In  1870  the  Franco-German  War  was 
going  on,  and  the  Vicar  always  had  the  morning's 
facts  ready  to  talk  about  at  dinner.  Like  every 
great  human  interest  the  shock  of  the  two  nations 
moved  him  deeply,  and  he  delighted  later  to  spend 
what  time  he  could  give  in  the  service  of  the 


1870  DAILY   LIFE   AT   WANTAGE  219 

Hospital  Corps  in  Germany.  His  days  were  always 
full,  but  he  would  find  time  to  entertain  a  guest, 
his  own,  or  ours ;  a  lad  from  Oxford,  or  a  priest, 
or  any  one  who  turned  up.  Now  and  then  there 
were  special  people,  whom  it  was  a  great  memory 
to  have  seen,  Archdeacon  Freeman,  Miss  Yonge ; 
above  all,  Bishop  Forbes.1 

Comparing  the  Vicar's  work  with  that  of  other 
men  in  similar  positions,  I  have  been  struck  by 
the  freedom  of  his  life  from  those  half-secular 
employments  which  so  often  intrude  upon  time  due 
to  the  highest  ends.2  He  never  seemed  oppressed 
by  business ;  now  and  then  there  would  be  a  meet- 
ing of  the  Governors  of  the  Wantage  Charities ; 
I  think  once  a  year  they  came  to  dinner :  an 
occasional  morning  would  be  given  to  a  sanitary 
committee.  But  such  things  were  never  to  the 
front,  though  evidently  they  were  not  neglected. 
Excellent  business  habits  made  their  execution 
light ;  very  much  was  done  quietly  and  effectively 
by  Mrs.  Butler.  It  seemed  always  possible  for  the 
head  of  the  parish  to  seek  first  the  kingdom  of  God. 

He  was  far  too  much  in  earnest  to  be  distracted. 
When  his  going  to  Maritzburg  as  Bishop  was  not 
improbable,  he  thought  out  all  that  would  have 
to  be  done ;  Sister  Eliza,  the  successful  and  devoted 
mistress  of  the  Middle  school,  was  ready  to  go 
with  him ;  he  had  thought  of  plans  for  raising 

1  The  Eight  Reverend  A.  P.  Forbes,  Bishop  of  Brechin. 

2  He     always     declined    to    become    a    magistrate,    saying    that 
"  preachee — preachee,"    and    "  floggee — floggee,"    were    incompatible 
occupations. 


220  REMINISCENCES  BY  REV.  V.  S.  S.  COLES         1870 

necessary  funds ;  but  all  was  to  go  on  at  Wantage 
as  if  he  were  not  going  to  the  last  half-hour. 

After  I  left  Wantage,  I  had  the  privilege  of 
often  seeing  the  Vicar  there,  and  afterwards  at 
Worcester,  and  once,  I  think,  at  Lincoln.  But  I  can 
hardly  add  anything  of  special  interest  as  to  this 
time.  It  only  remains  to  note  some  miscellaneous 
facts  or  thoughts  which  recur. 

He  was  a  severe  critic  of  methods  which  seemed 
to  be  fussy  or  unduly  valued,  apart  from  the  spirit 
which  should  inspire  them.  "  I  shall  not  believe 
in  Retreats  till  the  clergy  leave  off  smoking,  nor 
in  missions  till  all  the  Penitentiaries  are  filled," 
was  a  characteristic  saying. 

It  seemed  to  me  very  characteristic  of  him  that 
he  conceived  a  great  love  for  the  manly  simple  char- 
acter of  General  Gordon.  There  were  certain  per- 
sons in  the  parish  at  Wantage  to  whom  he  was  very 
closely  drawn,  such  as  William  Dixon,  the  good  old 
farmer,  who  trusted  him  at  first  and  supported  him 
through  opposition1  (he  was  dead  before  I  knew 
Wantage) ;  Sister  Eliza,  certain  Sisters  and  teachers 
still  living,  and  amongst  his  curates,  William  New- 
bolt,  Montague  Noel,  and  Henry  Houblon,  his  suc- 
cessor at  Wantage.  Outside  the  parish  he  had  an 
unbounded  delight  in  the  work  of  James  and  Tom 
Pollock  at  Birmingham,  in  Reginald  Porter's  dutiful 
and  deep  work  at  Kenn,  more  than  all  in  the  suc- 
cessive works  by  which  his  great  friend  Albert  Barff 

JHe  opposed  him  however  at  first  in  the  matter  of  the  Church 
Eestoration. 


1893  A   LAST   MEETING 


221 


has  served  the  Church.  For  him  at  North  Moreton  the 
Vicar  of  Wantage  preached  a  Mission,  the  only  one 
he  ever  took,1  and  up  to  the  last  he  stood  in  the 
closest  relation  to  this  dear  and  trusted  friend. 

My  last  interview  with  him,  and  my  last  letter, 
remain  in  my  mind.  I  met  him  at  the  Wantage 
Road  station  in  the  Lent  of  1893,  and  he  drove  me 
up  to  the  Home  in  his  fly.  His  ceaseless  talk  never 
flagged  the  whole  time :  amongst  other  things  he 
spoke  with  great  satisfaction  of  his  grand-daughter's 
coming  marriage.  Miss  -  kindly  asked  me  to 

come  to  the1?  Mead 2  later,  and  the  Dean  was  quite 
himself,  as  I  had  known  him  for  about  thirty  years, 
eager,  combative,  generous,  full  of  sympathy,  know- 
ledge, criticism,  bent  always  and  above  all  upon  the 
only  aim  of  his  strenuous  life,  his  untiring  duty, 
his  deep  undemonstrative  love — bent  upon  the 
single-hearted  service  of  God. 

In  the  following  summer  it  occurred  to  my  mind 
during  a  Retreat  for  the  Sisters  that,  as  the  number  of 
those  who  are  departed  increases,  it  would  be  well  to 
commemorate  them  at  one  Eucharist  during  the 
Retreat.  I  wrote  therefore  to  the  Dean,  and  asked  if 
he  approved  of  our  using  a  special  office,  that  for 
Easter  Eve.  He  wrote  back  very  warmly,  thanking 
me  for  consulting  him,  agreeing  with  the  appropriate 
opportunity  for  such  a  commemoration,  saying  that 
he  had  intended  to  have  provided  for  the  inscription 
of  the  names  of  the  departed  on  diptychs. 

1  He  preached  at  St.  Paul's  during  the  London  Mission  in  Feb.,  1874. 

2  The  house  at  which  he  was  staying. 


222  REMINISCENCES  BY  REV.  V.  S.  S.  COLES         1893 

Thus  my  last  communication  with  him  referred 
to  that  interchange  of  good  offices  between  the  living 
and  departed,  which  satisfies  one  of  our  holiest  in- 
stincts. Some  day,  perhaps,  it  may  be  permitted  me 
to  celebrate  the  Holy  Eucharist  at  the  altar  which 
is  his  fitting  memorial  (I  can  well  remember  how 
he  devised  its  erection  about  the  time  when  I  was 
his  curate)  at  Wantage.1  If  I  am  so  privileged,  I 
know  that  along  with  the  sacred  words,  once  so 
familiar  in  the  dignified  utterance  of  his  sonorous 
voice,  there  will  come  to  my  mind  the  text  which 
I  have  long  associated  with  him,  "  I  have  set  my 
face  like  a  flint,  and  I  know  that  I  shall  not  be 
ashamed." 

1  Extract  from  "  Parish  Journal,"  June  7,  1871  :  "  We  have  said 
matins  in  the  S.  Aisle,  partly  to  avoid  the  dust  and  dirt,  partly  to  try 
the  effect  of  a  service  said  there.  It  will  not,  I  think,  do  for  matins, 
still  less  for  evensong,  but  it  is  quite  desirable  at  some  future  time  to 
have  the  week-day  Celebrations  there.  The  only  question  is  how  far 
we  can  safely  venture  on  erecting  another  altar.  It  is  a  matter 
requiring  very  serious  consideration,  and  earnest  prayers  for  guidance. 
Altars  are  too  solemn  to  be  stuck  up  here  and  there  like  tables, 
according  to  the  fancy  of  this  or  that  person."  This  South  Chancel  Aisle 
now  forms  the  Memorial  Chapel,  restored  and  fitted  up  for  Divine 
Service  in  memory  of  his  life  and  work  at  Wantage. 


CHAPTER   VII. 

THE  NATAL  DIFFICULTY,  AND  MR.  KEBLE'S  DEATH. 

THE  year  1865  marked  the  beginning  of  a  crisis 
in  William  Butler's  life.  For  the  first  time  since 
he  had  entered  upon  his  work  at  Wantage  he  was 
within  measurable  distance  of  leaving  it. 

The  troubles  that  arose  in  the  matter  of  Bishop 
Colenso  are  told  at  length  in  the  Life  of  Bishop 
Gray,  of  Capetown.  Here  it  will  be  sufficient  to 
say  that  on  account  of  writings  which  the  Bishop 
of  Natal  published  throwing  doubts  on  the  authen- 
ticity of  parts  of  the  Pentateuch,  and  also,  later  on, 
impugning  the  Divinity  of  our  Lord,  Bishop  Gray, 
as  Metropolitan  of  the  Ecclesiastical  Province  of 
South  Africa,  took  steps  to  depose  Bishop  Colenso 
from  his  See,  with  the  concurrence  of  the  other 
Bishops  of  the  Province.  The  next  point  was  to  find 
a  successor,  and  William  Butler's  name  was  brought 
forward  on  the  strength  of  a  letter  from  Dr.  Pusey 
to  the  Bishop  of  Capetown,  in  which  he  stated  that 
"Butler  of  Wantage"  was  ready  and  willing  to  step 
at  once  into  the  breach.  This  statement  was  founded 
on  a  conversation  with  Mr.  Liddon,  in  which  he 
had  repeated  some  general  expressions  used  by  the 


224  THE   NATAL   DIFFICULTY  1865 

Vicar ;  but,  as  Mr.  Liddon  wrote  subsequently,  "  not 
making  anything  approaching  to  a  formal  offer  to 
go  to  Natal  .  .  .  and  I  repeated  your  words  to  Dr. 
Pusey  in  the  way  of  conversation,  and,  if  my  memory 
does  not  deceive  me,  in  order  to  meet  some  expres- 
sion of  sorrow  which  fell  from  him  as  to  the  lack  of 
devotion  among  the  English  clergy."  But,  as  it  will 
subsequently  be  shown,  not  only  had  he  no  intention 
of  putting  himself  forward  for  the  anxious  post  of 
Bishop  of  Natal,  but  after  his  nomination  he  never 
swerved  from  the  three  conditions  he  laid  down, 
namely,  (1)  That  his  election  should  be  proved  to 
be  valid ;  (2)  that  he  should  be  sent  by  his  own 
Metropolitan  and  Diocesan,  as  representing  the 
Mother  Church  ;  and  (3)  that  a  sufficient  income 
should  be  guaranteed  to  enable  him  to  leave  his 
wife  and  family  at  home  for  a  time,  and  to  carry 
on  the  work  at  Wantage  till  he  should  resign  the 
living,  as  well  as  to  meet  the  wants  of  the  Diocese, 
which  was  deprived  of  its  endowments  and  churches 
by  the  decision  of  the  secular  courts,  which  did  not 
recognise  Bishop  Gray's  acts  as  legal. 

His  sympathies  were  altogether  with  Bishop  Gray, 
as  his  letters  show. 

W.  J.  B.  TO  EEV.  J.  KEBLE. 

WANTAGE  VICAKAGE,  April  8,  1865. 

.  .  .  Touching  Bishop  Gray,  it  seems  to  me  that  the  for- 
mal excommunication  of  Colenso,  however  in  itself  proper  and 
desirable,  might  lead  to  very  serious  complications.  E.g.  How 
would;  it  affect  clergy  who  without  acknowledging  him  as  their 
Bishop,  admitted  him  to  Communion  ?  I  suppose,  at  least  in 


1866  BEGINNING  OF  THE   CRISIS  225 

England,  there  would  be  a  difficulty  in  refusing  him — at  all 
events  many  estimable  people  would  feel  it  to  be  so.  Unless  the 
excommunication  were  taken  up  and  endorsed  by  the  bishops  of 
the  Church  in  England,  it  would  put  Bishop  Gray  in  a  position 
of  isolation.  Would  it  not  be  better  to  stick  to  the  Act  of 
Deposition — gather  the  bishops  of  the  African  Church — make 
arrangements  for  Natal — and  call  upon  the  English  bishops  to 
declare  themselves  in  the  matter  1 

Almost  on  the  same  date  Bishop  Gray  wrote  to 
William  Butler  expressing  his  thankfulness  that  he 
should  be  willing  to  come  out  as  chief  pastor  to  the 
afflicted  flock  in  Natal.  But  at  that  time  he  did 
not  entertain  the  idea,  and  another  clergyman,  the 
Rev.  F.  H.  Cox,  then  at  Hobart  Town  in  Tasmania, 
was  recommended  by  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury 
for  election.  He  accepted  the  nomination,  but  sub- 
sequently withdrew,  and  on  October  25th,  1866,  the 
Vicar  of  Wantage  was  elected  Bishop  by  the  Diocese 
of  Natal,  but  with  seven  dissentient  clergy.  Thus 
the  crisis  began.  A  trying  time  followed.  One  of 
the  chief  obstacles  that  lay  between  him  and  his 
acceptance  of  the  See  was  the  question  whether  his 
election  was  canonical.  He  also  firmly  held  to  his 
original  stipulation  that  an  income  of  £600  a  year 
should  be  secured  to  the  See. 

Feeling  doubts  as  to  the  validity  of  the  election, 
he  put  the  decision  into  the  hands  of  his  Diocesan, 
Bishop  Wilberforce,  and  the  Archbishop  of  Canter- 
bury, Dr.  Longley.  They  wrote  on  January  12, 
1867:  "We  advise  you  to  suspend  your  decision 
until  these  important  questions  concerning  your 
election  shall  have  been  completely  answered."  The 


226  THE    NATAL    DIFFICULTY  1867 

Bishop  of  Oxford  was  all  along  in  favour  of  his 
acceptance.  After  the  decision  had  been  made  he 
wrote  to  Bishop  Gray,  "  No  doubt,  so  far  as  we 
can  see,  if  our  dear  Archbishop  had  seen  his  way 
to  stand  firm,  Butler  would  wonderfully  have  re- 
stored all  things." 

On  receipt  of  the  news  of  his  election,  Butler 
wrote  to  the  Bishop  of  Capetown  : 

WANTAGE  VICARAGE,  Dec.  28,  1866. 

MY  DEAR  LORD, — I  received  your  letter  with  a  mass  of  others 
from  Natal  upon  Christmas  Eve,  just  when  all  our  preparations 
for  Christmas  were  completed.  You  may  easily  imagine  the 
anxious  consideration  which  I  have  tried  to  give  to  a  subject 
so  all-important.  My  ties  to  England  are  strong  and  numerous. 
Yet  I  dread  from  my  inmost  soul  the  responsibility  of  withdraw- 
ing myself  from  what  may  be  a  call  from  God,  however  stern 
the  sacrifice  it  may  demand.  I  have  therefore  resolved  to  leave 
myself  unreservedly  in  the  hands  of  the  Archbishop  of  Canter- 
bury and  the  Bishop  of  Oxford,  my  natural  ecclesiastical  superiors, 
feeling  sure  that  you  and  the  Natal  clergy  will  be  satisfied  with 
this  decision,  and  also  believing  that  I  shall  in  this  way  most 
legitimately  find  out  the  Will  of  God  for  myself.  If  they  say 
'go,'  I  shall  feel  myself  bound — utterly  unequal  as  I  am  to 
accept  such  a  post,  pressing  and  imperative  as  are  my  home 
duties — to  go.  For  the  present  I  will  add  no  more.  The 
Bishop  of  Oxford  is  now  at  Addington  with  the  Archbishop, 
and  I  have  little  doubt  that  by  the  next  mail  they  will  have 
settled  the  question.  Meanwhile  I  am  always  with  deep  respect 
and  sympathy,  yours  most  faithfully. 

On  learning  the  Archbishop's  and  Bishop's  opinion, 
he  wrote  to  the  Dean  of  Pietermaritzburg  : 

WANTAGE  VICARAGE,  January  24,  1867. 

I  enclose  a  copy  of  the  joint  opinions  of  the  Archbishop  of 
Canterbury  and  the  Bishop  of  Oxford.  This  opinion  has  been 
drawn  up  with  very  great  care,  and  the  advice  of  several,  both 


1867  A  TIME    OF   SUSPENSE  227 

lay  and  clerical,  of  the  best  and  most  influential  Churchmen  has, 
I  know,  aided  them  in  their  conclusion.  It  leaves  the  case  in 
a  condition  not,  I  hope,  altogether  unsatisfactory  to  you  and 
the  other  brave  and  good  men  who  have  so  long  borne  the 
brunt  of  the  conflict.  It  seems  to  be  agreed  that  the  condition 
of  the  Church  in  Natal  is  such  that  you  are  perfectly  justified 
in  electing  a  Bishop.  But  at  the  same  time  the  soundest  men 
here  are  of  opinion  that  the  late  election  requires  rectifying  or 
revising.  Among  others,  the  Bishop  of  Grahamstown  doubts  its 
validity.  .  .  .  As  far  as  I  am  concerned,  I  am  simply  passive. 
I  dare  not  act  for  myself.  The  balance  of  duties  seems  too  even. 
You  could  not  have  called  any  one  with  more  ties  to  his  native 
land,  engagements  of  every  kind — domestic,  parochial,  public. 
I  have  children  growing  up,  boys  just  budding  into  manhood, 
daughters  educating,  a  father-in-law  and  a  mother,  both  of 
course  aged,  yet  both  strong  and  well,  and  keenly  alive  to  the 
pain  of  such  a  separation.  A  flourishing  body  of  Sisters  estab- 
lished here  and  elsewhere,  looking  to  me  as  their  founder  and 
guide.  Then  schools  and  parochial  institutions  of  every  kind 
rest  on  me.  All  this,  I  feel,  involves  me  in  much  entanglement. 
Yet  after  much  deliberation  I  have  resolved  that  if  the  way  is 
clear  I  must  make  a  sacrifice  which  will  cost  so  much  pain  not 
to  myself  only  but  to  so  many  others ;  and  weak  and  unfit  as  I 
am  for  such  a  post,  I  must  place  myself  at  your  service. 

Pray  however  do  not  consider  yourself  pledged  to  me  by  your 
late  vote,  but  if  you  can  find  anyone  who  seems  to  you  better 
suited  for  your  wants,  or  whose  name  would  create  more  unani- 
mity of  feeling  among  the  clergy,  do  not  hesitate  to  set  me  aside. 

His  most  confidential  correspondent  during  the 
trying  time  that  followed  his  election  was  his 
friend  H.  P.  Liddon. 

W.  J.  B.  TO  REV.  H.  P.  LIDDON. 

CALDICOT  HOUSE,  WATFORD,  Jan.  18,  1867. 

I  have  received  from  the  Archbishop  and  Bishop,  together 

with  two  private  letters — the  enclosed1 — which  I  send  to  you  in 

confidence,  for  I  do  not  as  yet  know  what  use  I  am  permitted  to 

make  of  it.     It  seems  to  me  very  full  and  helpful.     I  am  going 

1  See  Life  of  Robert  Gray,  D.D.,  vol.  ii.,  p.  299  (1876). 


228  THE  NATAL  DIFFICULTY  1867 

to  Cuddesdon  on  Saturday,  and  I  suppose  that  after  a  talk  with 
the  Bishop,  I  shall  know  more  exactly  what  to  say  and  what  to 
do.  I  hope  that  you  will  think  that  I  have  done  rightly  in  this 
very  difficult  case,  and  I  should  like  also  to  think  that  Dr.  Pusey 
was  satisfied  that  I  am  not  a  '  malingerer.'  I  had,  I  think  I  may 
honestly  say,  quite  made  up  my  own  mind  on  the  subject.  I 
mean  that  I  was  and  am  ready  to  do  whatever  it  seems  right  that 
I  should  call  my  duty,  and  I  had  gone  so  far  as  to  arrange  my 
plans  in  case  the  opinion  went  in  favour  of  my  starting  at  once. 
I  really  know  not  what  I  could  have  done  more,  but  of  course 
there  is  in  everything  so  much  room  for  self-deceit  that  I  almost 
fear  that  I  have  said  too  much. 

I  have  spent  nearly  a  fortnight  in  great  rest  under  my 
mother's  roof,  and  hope  to  return  to  Wantage  on  Monday.  I 
went  on  Sunday  to  St.  Mary  Magdalene's,  and  heard  a  most 
wonderful  sermon  from  Stuart.  I  should  like  to  tell  you  of  it  at 
length,  but  I  must  repeat  one  passage. 

"  The  Wise  Men  were  wise,  my  brethren,  because  they  per- 
ceived the  meaning  of  the  star.  They  were  wise  because,  etc., 
etc.,  etc.,  and  they  were  wise  because  they  offered  incense  to 
Christ.  The  new  wise  men  (we  think  them  very  foolish  men) 
say  that  we  must  not  offer  incense  to  Christ,  but  we  don't  intend 
to  mind  them,  my  brethren,"  and  so  on,  all  said  with  the 
quaintest  accent  and  manner.  I  had  a  chat  with  A.  H.  M.  on 
Tuesday.  He  "looks,  I  think,  worn,  but  is,  as  ever,  very  cheery 
and  genial.  How  very  good  is  his  exposition  of  Faith.  It  is 
worthy  of  some  old  Eastern  bishop.  .  .  .  Philip  Freeman1 
is  very  desirous  to  publish  an  annotated  copy  [of  the  Christian 
Year]  with  parallel  passages.  He  would,  I  think,  undertake  the 
classical  parallels,  for  which  no  man  is  better  fitted.  He  also 
wishes  to  give  the  '  motif,'  so  to  say,  of  each  poem,  which  would 
I  think  be  very  useful.  In  fact,  just  as  Dante  was  edited 
immediately  after  his  death — so  to  bring  out  the  meanings 
and  allusions  of  the  Christian  Year  by  the  efforts  of  various 
minds.  ,  .  . 

After  many  months  of  uncertainty  at  length  the 
decision  came.  It  was  founded  on  what  may  be 

1Ven.  Philip  Freeman,  Archdeacon  of  Exeter,  author  of  Principles 
of  Divine  Service. 


1867  THE  DECISION  229 

called  a  bye-issue,  and  it  came  at  a  time  when 
William  Butler's  consecration  as  Bishop  seemed  to 
be  only  postponed  till  the  last  legal  difficulties  were 
overcome.  But  in  the  course  of  1867  a  Declaration 
was  put  forth  on  the  subject  of  the  Holy  Eucha- 
rist by  some  of  the  leaders  of  the  High  Church 
clergy,  and  William  Butler's  name,  as  the  list  was 
alphabetical,  headed  it.  The  Archbishop  took  alarm 
at  this,  and  thought  that  a  man  of  less  pronounced 
opinions  would  find  more  favour  with  the  clergy  of 
Natal.  This  practically  decided  the  question.  His 
own  words,  in  a  letter  written  to  The  Guardian, 
under  date  21  November,  1867,  are  sufficient : 

Will  you  have  the  kindness  to  publish  the  accompanying 
extract  from  a  letter  received  by  me  from  the  Archbishop  of 
Canterbury. 

When,  at  the  end  of  last  year,  the  news  of  my  election  to 
the  See  of  Pietermaritzburg  first  reached  me,  the  circumstances 
of  the  case  appeared  to  me  so  novel  and  so  important  that  I  felt 
myself  bound  in  common  prudence  to  look  to  those  for  counsel 
who  from  their  position  of  authority,  were  most  able  both  to 
give  it,  arid  also  to  assist  in  meeting  the  difficulties  which  could 
not  fail  to  surround  an  effort  made  in  the  face  of  keen  and 
intelligent  opposition,  to  win  for  the  Church  in  the  Colonies  her 
true  and  rightful  privilege  of  unfettered  religious  action.  I 
therefore  placed  myself  unreservedly  at  the  disposal  of  His 
Grace  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury.  He  has  come  to  the 
conclusion,  after — it  cannot  be  doubted — much  careful  considera- 
tion, that  some  other  than  I  will  best  satisfy  the  requirements 
of  the  Diocese,  and  it  would  be  both  ungrateful  and  unbecoming 
in  me  to  dispute  his  decision.  It  will  be  seen  therefore  that 
whatever  regret  or  pain  this  somewhat  unexpected  result  has 
caused,  I  have  no  course  left  but  to  decline  the  honourable, 
if  anxious  post  of  Bishop  over  the  orthodox  members  of  the 
Church  of  Natal.  WILLIAM  BUTLER. 


230  THE  NATAL  DIFFICULTY  1867 

ADDINGTON  PARK,  Oct.  29th,  1867. 

I  have  come  to  the  conclusion  that  I  ought  to  dissuade  you 
from  availing  yourself  of  your  election  to  the  See  of  Pieter- 
maritzburg.  To  my  mind  the  appointment  of  any  one  of  very 
marked  opinions  to  the  See  would  be  open  to  serious  objections, 
and  it  would  be  better  to  select  some  one  more  calculated  to 
meet  the  various  shades  of  religious  opinion  that  exist  among 
faithful  members  of  the  Church  of  England  in  the  Colony  of 
Natal. 

He  wrote  privately  to  the  Archbishop  of  Canter- 
bury : 

WANTAGE  VICARAGE,  Oct.  30,  1867. 

MY  LORD  ARCHBISHOP, — You  have  been  good  enough  to 
permit  me  to  seek  your  counsel  in  this  anxious  matter,  and 
I  am  bound  to  follow  it. 

Pardon  me,  however,  for  saying  that  I  receive  it  with  mixed 
feelings.  I  had  so  long  endeavoured  to  look  at  the  difficult 
work  in  Natal  and  the  painful  separation  from  home  ties 
and  duties  as  almost  certain  to  be  my  future  lot,  that  I  can 
scarcely  now  bear  to  give  it  up.  I  have  however  no  doubt 
that  others  can  be  found  far  more  worthy  than  I  am,  to  help 
on  the  great  work  of  freeing  the  Church  of  England  from  her 
present  embarrassments  in  the  Colonies,  and  that  your  Grace's 
decision  is  an  indication  to  me  that  such  is  the  Will  of  G-od. 
I  have  only  to  ask  your  permission  to  publish  the  letter  which 
I  received  this  morning,  and  to  remain 

Your  humble  and  dutiful  servant. 

That  the  final  decision  came  as  something  of  a 
blow  is  evident  from  Mr.  Liddon's  reply  to  a  letter 
which  has  not  come  to  light. 

THE  REV.  H.  P.  LIDDON  TO  W.  J.  B. 

CHRISTCHURCH,  Thursday,  Nov.  7,  1867. 

I  was  truly  sorry  to  miss  you  so  yesterday.  The  fact  is  I 
had  quite  given  you  up,  thinking  that  you  had  come  to  view 


1867  IN  THE  MEANTIME 


231 


the  matter  as  settled,  however  painfully  in  some  respects,  and 
so  had  taken  leave  of  it.  I  do  not  think  that  you  need  deem 
all  the  anxieties  and  discomforts  of  the  last  two  years  as  lost. 
On  the  contrary,  your  'zeal,'  as  the  Archbishop  quaintly  calls 
it,  has  really  given  a  bodily  shape  and  active  impetus  to  what 
else  might  never  have  passed  beyond  the  region  of  aspirations. 
The  Archbishop  now  is  pledged  to  do  something  towards  pro- 
viding an  'orthodox'  bishop  for  Natal,  and  that  he  is  so 
pledged  is  practically  your  doing.  I  am  not  sorry,  for  higher 
motives  than  the  strong  selfish  reason  which  enters  into  my 
view  of  the  matter,  that  you  are  kept  by  God's  providence 
in  England.  You  never  could  be  replaced  at  Wantage,  and 
your  departure  would  have  snapped  or  loosened  more  sympathies 
and  supports  in  many  directions  than,  of  course,  it  would  occur 
to  you  to  think  of. 

It  may  be  just  as  well  that  the  struggle  with  Colenso  should 
not  be  complicated  by  a  Sacramental  controversy,  such  as  a 
much  less  shrewd  opponent  than  he  is,  would  be  sure  to  raise 
on  your  arrival.  .  .  . 

It  was  characteristic  of  William  Butler  that  he 
did  not  permit  himself,  during  this  long  period  of 
suspense  and  anxiety,  to  relax  his  efforts  for  the 
welfare  of  his  parishioners.  The  "Parish  Journal"  con- 
tains the  usual  close  inspection  and  criticism  of  ser- 
vices, schools,  and  the  rest  of  the  parochial  machinery, 
the  constant  anxiety  for  the  spiritual  condition  of 
his  people,  the  same  expressions  of  humble  sense  of 
failure.  In  the  summer  of  1867  when  the  decision 
seemed  to  be  suspended,  like  the  sword  of  Damocles, 
by  a  single  hair,  he  went  abroad  for  his  holiday, 
and,  as  has  been  seen  in  the  previous  chapter, 
made  a  study  of  certain  aspects  of  French  reli- 
gious life.  His  correspondence  reveals  some  of  the 
workings  of  his  mind  on  the  Church  difficulties  of 
the  day. 


232  THE  NATAL  DIFFICULTY  1867 

W.  J.  B.  TO  REV.  H.  P.  LIDDON. 

WANTAGE  VICARAGE,  Feb.  8,  1868. 

Thank  you  for  your  kind  letter.  I  should  have  been  delighted 
to  have  caught  you  for  a  few  minutes.  As  your  scout  comfort- 
ingly told  me,  you  had  scarcely  left  your  rooms  when  I  called, 
from  which,  as  I  told  him,  I  concluded  that  it  would  be  some 
time  before  you  returned. 

The  course  of  events  moves  on  so  rapidly — alas,  almost  always 
in  one  direction,  that  of  diropia  and  anxiety, — that  it  is  a  great 
comfort  to  compare  reckonings,  and  to  feel  that  those  who 
are  like-minded  are  within  hail.  Have  you  seen  the  admirable 
answers  of  the  Bishop  of  Capetown  to  Archbishop  Thomson 
and  Bishop  Tart?1  For  dignity,  argument,  and  gentle  but 
unmistakeable  suggestion  of  consequences,  they  are,  I  think 
unrivalled.  In  a  letter  which  I  have  received  from  him  to-day 
he  tells  me  that  the  Bishop  of  London  writes  to  him  plainly  that 
he  is  in  communion  with  Colenso !  It  is  right — nay,  our  bounden 
duty  to  act  very  cautiously,  with  all  charity  and  all  hope. 
But  there  is  a  limit  beyond  which  I,  for  one,  dare  not  pass, 
and  if  this  coming  session  of  Convocation  do  not  in  some  way 
firmly  and  distinctly  deal  with  this  question,  I  conceive  that 
action  of  some  kind  on  our  part  will  become  a  vital  necessity. 
The  time  is  rapidly  nearing,  when  the  Bishops  must  be  made 
to  see  the  real  state  of  things,  and  fairly  to  face  the  con- 
sequences, i.e.  the  possibility  of  a  large  body  of  the  most 
devoted  of  the  English  clergy  being  forced  to  accept  at  least 
inaction,  from  the  absolute  impossibility  of  co-operating  with 
those  who  trample  or  allow  others  to  trample  on  the  'vivendi 
causae.' 

A  very  cheerful  letter  came  from  Miss  Milman  to  Mrs. 
Butler  a  day  or  two  ago.  He  seems  to  be  making  good  progress ; 
but  India,  she  says,  is  as  England  was  twenty  years  ago.2 

How  severe  an  ordeal  William  Butler  passed 
through  during  the  many  months  of  suspense  would 

1  See  Life  of  Robert  Gray,  vol.  ii.,  p.  38,  et  seq. 

2  The  Right  Rev.  Robert  Milman,  consecrated  Bishop  of  Calcutta, 
Feb.  2,  1867. 


186;  ADDRESS  FROM  PARISHIONERS  233 

be  known  to  but  few.  The  outside  world,  ignorant 
of  his  sensitiveness  and  the  tender  fibres  of  his 
nature,  would  imagine  that  the  prospect  of  a  battle 
would  be  acceptable  to  one  who  appeared  to  many 
combative  rather  than  sensitive.  But  a  letter  written 
by  Mrs.  Butler  in  October,  1867,  when  it  seemed 
almost  certain  that  the  decision  would  be  in  favour 
of  his  going,  tells  a  very  different  tale.  After  de- 
scribing her  own  feelings,  and  saying  that  in  her 
case  the  worst  was  now  over,  she  says  : 

But  all  this  comes  new  to  W.,  and  he  is,  alas !  drinking  the 
cup  to  the  dregs — not  shrinking  from  it,  or  giving  way,  but 
feeling  its  bitterness.  This  week  of  his  communicant  classes  is 
very  trying — the  grief  and  lamentations  of  young  and  old  are 
hard  to  bear,  and,  as  he  says,  all  this  brings  before  him  in 
strong  contrast  the  exchange  of  hatred  and  reviling  for  love 
and  respect.  Depend  upon  it,  no  warm  weather  or  variety  of 
scene  can  ever  make  up  to  him  for  the  loss  of  all  he  really 
cares  for. 

The  hearts  of  the  people  of  Wantage  had  been 
deeply  stirred  by  the  fear  of  losing  their  Vicar,  and 
the  churchwardens  had  written  privately  to  the 
Archbishop,  begging  him  not  to  let  him  go.  The 
feelings  of  the  parishioners  took  shape  when  the 
final  decision  had  been  made,  in  an  address,  dated 
Wantage,  Nov.  20th,  1867: 

REV.  SIR, — We,  the  undersigned  parishioners  of  the  parish 
of  Wantage,  having  heard  the  plain  and  lucid  statement  made 
by  you  from  the  pulpit  in  reference  to  your  nomination  to  the 
Bishopric  of  Natal,  and  all  the  subsequent  proceedings,  ending 
in  the  opinion  of  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury  that  some  other 
person  should  be  appointed  to  the  vacant  See,  desire  to  express 
our  gratification  that  you  are  still  to  be  our  spiritual  pastor, 


234  MR.  KEBLE'S  DEATH  1867 

and  our  sympathy  at  the  trials  which  have  been  brought  about 
by  the  late  proceedings. 

We  duly  appreciate  the  many  works  which  have  been  done 
by  you  in  this  parish  during  the  last  twenty  years,  and  we 
sincerely  hope  that  your  life  may  be  long  spared  to  continue 
the  good  works  which  have  emanated  from  your  zeal  and  energy, 
and  we  also  beg  to  express  our  feelings  of  love  and  regard  for 
yourself  personally,  being  satisfied  that  under  your  guidance  we 
shall  be  kept  from  the  strife  and  contention  which  have  dis- 
turbed so  many  parishes. 

This  address  was  signed  by  representatives  of  all 
classes  in  the  parish,  some  of  whom  had  been  his 
chief  opponents  in  former  years.  A  still  more  sub- 
stantial proof  of  the  people's  gratification  was  a 
testimonial  consisting  of  nearly  £100,  which  he 
accepted,  and  expended  in  filling  the  west  window 
of  the  church  with  stained  glass. 

In  the  course  of  these  years  of  grave  anxiety 
his  most  trusted  adviser,  Mr.  Keble,  was  taken  to 
his  rest.  To  the  last  letters  exchanged  between 
them  is  added  one  written  many  years  later  to  the 
Eev.  Walter  Lock,1  author  of  a  Life  of  John 
Keble. 

W.  J.  B.  TO  REV.  J.  KEBLE. 

WANTAGE  VICARAGE,  Jan.  28,  1866. 

.  .  .  I  need  not  say  to  you  how  much  we  think  of  dear 
Mrs.  Keble  and  of  you.  If  by  taking  duty  at  Hursley,  or  in 
any  other  way,  I  can  be  of  the  least  service  to  you,  I  know 
nothing  which  will  give  me  more  pleasure.  I  pray  heartily 
that  the  God  of  all  comfort  may  give  you  in  this  hour  of  sorrow 
a  double  portion  of  that  comfort  which  He  has  given  to  so 
many  through  you.  My  wife  joins  me  in  deepest  sympathy, 
and  so  do  the  'Sisters.' 

1  Now  Warden  of  Keble  College,  Oxford. 


1866  LAST   LETTERS  235 

KEY.  J.  KEBLE  TO  W.  J.  B. 

BOURNEMOUTH,  Feb.  13,  1866. 

My  wife  has  just  reminded  me  about  sending  this  which  I 
inclose,  with  all  best  wishes  and  thanks  for  your  good  prayers 
and  all  your  kindness :  nor  least  for  your  friendly  thought  of 
helping  me  in  case  of  need  in  my  parish.  It  would  be  a  keen 
necessity  which  would  force  me  to  have  recourse  to  persons  so 
much  overtasked  already,  and  I  trust  it  will  not  occur;  but 
we  thank  you  all  the  same. 

The  messenger  has  not  yet  come,  but  fresh  symptoms  have 
occurred  which  seem  meant  to  warn  us  of  his  approach.  I 
wish  we  were  all  as  prepared  to  part  as  (humanly  speaking) 
she  by  God's  mercy  is  to  go. 

The  enclosed  is  especially,  of  course,  for  the  Home. 

W.  J.  B.  TO  REV.  J.  KEBLE. 

WANTAGE  VICARAGE,  Feb.  14,  1866. 

We  do  indeed  feel  very  deeply  the  kindness  of  Mrs.  Keble 
and  yourself  in  remembering  the  Home  and  its  needs  at  this 
special  time.  It  seems  almost  to  ensure  to  our  work  an  interest 
in  the  prayers  and  good  offices  of  the  Blessed.  Much  indeed 
do  we  need  them. 

Thank  you  also  very  much  for  your  account  of  dear  Mrs. 
Keble.  How  like  a  sweet  autumn  seems  her  gradual  fading ; 
if  indeed  that  be  the  right  word !  Pray  do  not  hesitate  to 
accept  my  offer,  if  you  need  help.  I  have  at  present  a  super- 
numerary curate,  i.e.  one  more  than  my  actually  needful 
number.  I  saw  Liddon  a  few  days  since  at  Oxford.  It  is 
a  great  piece  of  good  fortune  that  he  should  have  got  the 
Bampton  Lectures.  I  lent  his  sermons  to  my  neighbour,  Lord 
Overstone,  a  complete  Whig  of  the  old  school.  He  was  so  charmed 
with  them,  that  he  bought  them  at  once,  and  talked  of  taking 
lodgings  at  Oxford  to  hear  his  Bampton  Lectures.  I  thought 
that  you  would  be  interested  in  hearing  this.1 

'The  "Parish  Journal"  for  1866  contains  these  entries:  "Thursday 
in  Holy  Week,  March  29.  Our  dear  friend  Mr.  Keble  departed  to 
his  rest.  April  6.  Mr.  Keble  buried  at  Hursley.  It  was  a  touching 
and  yet  blessed  sight  to  see  the  gathering  of  good  and  earnest  people 
round  the  grave  of  that  holy  and  revered  friend.  The  day  was  sunuy 
and  bright,  and  all  spoke  of  peace." 


236  MR.  KEBLE'S  DEATH  1866 

REV.  H.  P.  LIDDON  TO  W.  J.  B. 

60  UPPER  SEYMOUR  ST.,  W.,  Good  Friday,  1866. 

You  will  be  very  deeply  distressed  at  hearing  that  dear 
Mr.  Keble  died  at  Bournemouth  yesterday  at  one  o'clock.  His 
brother  Mr.  Thomas  Keble  was  with  him,  and  read  the  Com- 
mendatory prayer  at  8  A.M.,  and  again  at  one,  as  he  passed 
away.  It  is  only  within  the  last  four  or  five  days  that  we 
have  been  alarmed  about  him :  as  probably  you  have  heard 
at  the  beginning  of  last  week  Mrs.  Keble  was  thought  to  be 
dying;  but  on  Wednesday  she  rallied  in  her  wonderful  way. 
But  the  strain  had  been  too  much  for  him. 

The  blank  which  his  death  has  made — in  earth — is  something 
terrible.  But  how  high  must  be  his  place  in  heaven  !  I  try  to 
think  of  this.  That  he  should  thus  lie  down  to  die  beneath 
the  very  Cross  itself,  is  quite  in  keeping  with  the  whole  of 
his  most  beautiful  and  saintly  life. 

W.  J.  B.  TO  REV.  W.  LOCK. 

THE  DEANERY,  Lincoln,  Whitsunday,  1893. 

DEAR  SIR, — Though  I  have  not  had  the  pleasure  of  making 
personal  acquaintance  with  you,  yet  I  venture  to  trouble  you 
with  a  few  words  respecting  my  dear  friend  Mr.  Keble,  whose 
life  you  have  lately  written  with  so  great  discrimination  and 
sympathy.  I  believe  that  there  are  very  few  now  alive  of 
those  who  like  myself  were  privileged  to  be  admitted  to  inti- 
mate friendship  with  him,  and  therefore  I  desire,  before  I  too 
am  called  away,  to  offer  you  a  few  reminiscences  of  one  so 
altogether  noble  and  uncommon.  To  do  this  will  be  a  sort 
of  relief  to  myself,  and  pray  deal  with  what  I  am  endeavouring 
to  jot  down  exactly  as  seems  best  to  yourself. 

I  had  the  great  good  fortune  of  passing  the  first  two  years 
of  my  ministerial  life  at  Dogmersfield,  where  the  Reverend 
Charles  Dyson  was  rector.  It  is  a  very  small  parish,  but  for 
some  time  past  he  had  been  invalided  by  pulmonary  weakness, 
which  rendered  a  curate's  help  absolutely  necessary.  He  was 
a  very  remarkable  man — one  of  the  famous  old  C.  C.  C.  set — 
and  in  some  ways  looked  up  to  more  than  any  other  both  for 
his  vast  knowledge,  high  character,  and  slight  seniority.  Mr. 


1893  RECOLLECTIONS  OF  MR.  KEBLE  237 

Keble  was  his  bosom  friend,  and  on  one  occasion  when  a 
difficult  question  was  asked,  referred  the  questioner  to  "a 
certain  wise  old  man  who  lives  at  Dogmersfield."  Mr.  Keble 
visited  Dogmersfield  Eectory  not  unfrequently,  and  in  this 
way  I  first  became  acquainted  with  him.  He  was  particularly 
kind  to  all  young  people,  and  again  and  again  invited  me  to 
Hursley,  whither  one  went  almost  trembling  with  gratitude 
at  his  intense  kindness,  and  at  the  same  time  with  a  certain 
sense  of  awe.  The  way  of  living  at  Hursley  Vicarage  was  in 
some  ways  of  the  same  style  as  Dogmersfield  Rectory,  and 
[it  was]  inhabited  much  in  the  same  way.  Mrs.  Dyson  and 
Mrs.  Keble  were  both  childless;  and  in  each  case  a  most 
charming  sister  of  the  husband  made  part  of  the  family. 
Nothing  could  be  more  simple — even  homely.  And  yet  one 
felt  that  there  was  a  very  atmosphere  of  high  intellect  and 
refined  taste.  There  was  an  old-fashioned  garden,  fertile  and 
full ;  a  fine  growth  of  trees,  mostly  elms ;  small  but  cheerful 
rooms ;  not  very  many  books — classics  and  Fathers  of  old 
editions,  as  Savile's  St.  Chrysostom.  Mr.  Keble  had  at  that 
time  a  very  comfortable  pony  carriage,  and  a  couple  of  rough 
grey  ponies. 

After  that  first  visit  I  felt  myself  at  home  at  Hursley,  and  had 
the  pleasure  of  introducing  Philip  Freeman,  the  author  of 
Principles  of  Divine  Service — afterwards  Archdeacon  of  Exeter — 
and  of  spending  a  day  in  my  marriage  holiday  under  the 
Vicarage  roof.  Mr.  Keble  was  one  of  the  kindest  of  men, 
liberal  in  all  money  matters,  free  of  his  time  and  knowledge,  and 
most  encouraging  to  young  men  such  as  at  that  time  I  was.  He 
was  even  good  enough  to  look  through  and  help  me  greatly  in 
preparing  for  the  press  a  volume  of  Sermons  for  Working  Men, 
which  I  published  in  1847.  With  all  this  however  he  was 
a  man  who  knew  well  how  to  hold  his  own.  In  the  kindest,  yet 
most  unmistakeable  manner,  he  could  '  put  down '  anything  that 
seemed  foolish  or  undesirable.  I  remember  once,  at  a  time 
when  Dr.  Pusey's  relations  with  Miss  Sellon  were  much  criti- 
cised, ...  I  ventured  to  say  something  of  the  kind.  He 
turned  sharply  upon  me  with,  "  You  must  not  say  that.  Re- 
member, I  am  a  regular  Puseyite."  At  another  time,  when 
staying  with  me  at  Wantage,  a  number  of  us  were  discussing  the 
evils  of  pluralism ;  suddenly  he  looked  up  and  exclaimed,  "  My 


238  MR.    KEBLE'S   DEATH  1893 

father  was  a  pluralist,  and — (with  a  pause)  I  am  not  ashamed  of 
him."  When  I  had  to  preach  the  sermon  at  the  Anniversary 
Church  Festival,  just  as  the  bell  had  stopped  and  we  were 
passing  his  study,  I  asked  to  look  at  a  passage  in  St.  Chrysostom, 
which  I  was  about  to  quote.  He  asked  me  whether  I  would 
have  the  Greek  or  the  English  translation.  Having  only  an 
instant  in  which  to  glance  at  the  passage,  and  knowing  the 
difficulty  of  recognising  the  contractions  without  a  little  practice, 
I  asked  for  the  English,  and  received  from  him  a  sort  of  '  Et  tu, 
Brute '  look.  He  was  very  fond  of  the  little  formula,  "  Don't 
you  think  ? "  "  Don't  you  think,"  he  said  to  me  on  one  occasion, 
"  that  the  time  is  coming  when  we  shall  have  to  preach  a  great 
deal  about  the  Fifth  Commandment  ? " 

He  could  sometimes  be  even  angry.  On  one  of  the  famous 
meetings  of  the  National  Society,  in  1848,  when  Archdeacon 
Manning,  as  he  then  was,  had  carried  a  somewhat  trimming 
resolution,  he  was  much  vexed,  and  said,  "It  is  not  the  first 
time  that  Manning  has  let  us  down."  He  had  no  confidence  in 
him,  nor  in  any  one  who  acted  diplomatically.  He  felt  keenly 
Newman's  article  on  the  "  Lyra  Innocentium,"  in  the  Dublin 
Review.  I  was  with  him  shortly  after  its  publication,  and  he 
was  greatly  offended  at  certain  expressions  and  statements  con- 
tained in  it.  At  the  same  time  he  was  most  considerate  of 
anything  like  real  feeling.  Long  after  he  had  laid  by  the  money 
to  build  the  present  Hursley  church  he  waited  to  begin  the 
work  for  the  sake  of  one  old  man  who  had  a  pew  in  which 
he  had  worshipped  for  years,  and  to  which  he  was  much 
attached. 

A  day  at  Hursley  was  not  to  be  forgotten.  Prayers  were  at 
eight,  always  said  by  heart  by  Mr.  Keble,  covering  his  eyes  with 
his  hand ;  then  followed  a  meditation,  one  of  the  R.C.  Bishop 
Milner's,  very  short  and  simple;  then  the  plainest  breakfast. 
Mattins  at  ten,  I  think;  dinner,  again  most  plain,  at  one.  A  walk 
in  the  afternoon ;  tea  at  six,  after  which  he  would  sit  in  the 
window,  putting  together  his  sermon,  or  any  literary  work — 
generally  on  scraps  of  paper,  backs  of  letters,  and  the  like — 
and  entering  whenever  there  was  need  into  the  conversation  of 
the  party. 

He  was  most  particular  in  observing  the  fasts  and  festivals  of 
the  Church.  On  a  fast-day  he  never  took  butter  at  breakfast. 


1893  RECOLLECTIONS  OF  MR.   KEBLE  239 

And  I  remember  how,  during  the  '  Expectation  Week '  he 
would  never  leave  home,  but  continued  as  it  were  waiting  with 
the  apostles  for  the  '  Unspeakable  Grift.'  It  happened  that 
some  business  once  called  me  to  Hursley  at  that  time.  He 
asked  me  to  preach,  but  I  of  course  declined,  hoping  to  have  the 
opportunity  of  listening  to  him.  There  were  perhaps  a  dozen 
people  in  the  church.  He  turned  to  them  from  the  reading-desk 
and  addressed  them,  as  was  his  custom  at  that  time,  quite 
without  note.  He  spoke  of  the  Apostles  waiting.  "  Perhaps," 
he  said,  "  you  would  not  think  ten  days  a  long  time.  But  just 
think  for  a  moment.  They  were  waiting  for  the  great  promise, 
the  greatest  Gift  that  even  God  could  bestow  on  man.  They 
were  eager  to  do  their  Master's  bidding,  but  till  the  Gift  came 
they  could  not  do  it.  They  desired  to  preach  the  Gospel,  but 
till  the  Gift  they  must  remain  inactive.  They  prayed  all  day 
and  still  it  came  not.  They  prayed  all  night  and  still  it  came 
not.  0  depend  upon  it,  ten  days  was  a  very  long  time  for  them 
to  wait."  That  was  all,  most  simple,  and  yet  as  he  said  it,  most 
impressive. 

There  are  few  things  that  I  rejoice  in  more  than  that  it 
was  given  to  me  to  introduce  H.  P.  Liddon  to  Mr.  Keble.  Mr. 
Keble  had  more  to  do  with  forming  Liddon's  mind  than  most 
people  are  aware.  The  simplicity  and  directness  combined  with 
the  scholarship  and  great  ability  of  Mr.  Keble  had  a  great  effect 
on  Liddon,  steadying  him,  and  Anglicising  him,  and  helping 
him  to  guide  others.  Also  we  owe  to  Mr.  Keble  the  absolute 
firmness  of  Miss  Yonge.  I  mean  her  strong  grasp  of  Church 
principles,  in  spite  of  many  forces  which  might  have  drawn  her 
into  the  '  femme  forte  '  direction. 

I  could  with  a  little  effort  recall  much  more,  but  I  dare 
not  inflict  more  upon  you.  As  I  said  in  the  beginning  of  this 
letter,  pray  destroy  or  do  anything  that  you  like  with  what  I 
have  written. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE  FRANCO-PRUSSIAN  WAR 

THE  anxious  question  of  Natal  once  settled,  he 
resumed  the  thread  of  his  parochial  life,  which, 
indeed,  had  never  been  dropped.  His  letters  to  Mr. 
Liddon  give  glimpses  of  his  work  and  interests  : 

W.  J.  B.  TO  REV.  H.  P.  LIDDON. 

WANTAGE  VICARAGE,  Dec.  10,  1869. 

It  is  so  long  since  anything  has  passed  between  us  that  I 
feel  quite  shy  in  beginning  a  letter — the  more  so  as  I  have 
really  nothing  special  to  say,  and  write  only  because  I  want 
to  hear  of  and  from  you. 

Have  you  been  in  Oxford  all  the  term  ?  I  suppose  that  you 
find,  as  I  find,  that  local  and  immediate  claims  on  one's  time 
grow  more  and  more  absorbing,  just  as,  if  one's  microscope  were 
stronger,  one  might  write  treatises  on  a  rose  leaf  or  a  fly's  wing. 
It  is  quite  inexpressible  how  very  much  more  I  become  tied 
to  Wantage,  and  simply,  as  I  imagine,  unable  to  leave  it  without 
injuring  the  work  of  the  place.  Rightly  or  wrongly,  I  keep 
on  enunciating  that  work  is  best  done  for  the  Church  by  doing 
that  which  is  directly  given,  and  I  shrink  greatly  from  external 
calls.  Our  annual  confirmation  took  place  last  week.  The 
Bishop  of  0.  kept  on  coquetting  with  it,  saying  that  he  would 
come,  etc.,  then  hoped  that  I  would  make  the  ground  certain 
by  making  sure  of  another  Bishop  in  case  he  was  prevented; 
finally  did  not  come.  Fortunately  I  had  caught  Addington 


1869          CORRESPONDENCE  WITH    MR.    LIDDON  241 

Nassaviensis,1  and  he  most  kindly  confirmed,  and  received  or 
professed  a  Sister  (I  cannot  get  the  verb  right)  the  next  day. 
It  amuses  me  in  the  midst  of  the  world-shaking  changes  which 
go  on  on  all  sides — politically,  socially,  ecclesiastically,  and, 
above  all,  ritually — to  find  how  little  we  move  here.  You  might 
almost  return  as  curate,  and  find  just  what  you  remember  sixteen 
or  seventeen  years  ago.  I  do  not  mean  that  various  things  have 
not  been  done,  but  the  general  tfOos  is  so  similar.  Of  course 
sooner  or  later  the  tide  must  turn  here  as  elsewhere.  I  trust 
not  in  my  time. 

Those  two  meetings  at  Oxford  and  Cambridge  simply  fill  me 
with  amazement.  That  a  body  of  men,  mostly  clergy,  and  all 
members  of  the  Church  of  England,  should  almost  passionately 
resolve  on  praying  the  legislature  to  do  that  which  must,  ex 
hypothesi,  divorce  their  own  religion  from  the  education  of  the 
place,  is  the  strangest  and  most  inconceivable  phenomenon  that, 
I  venture  to  say,  any  age  in  the  whole  history  of  the  world  can 

show.  And  the  grotesque  actually  applauds  and  rejoices. 

I  wish  that  people  would  realise  the  existence  of  that  extremely 
sectarian  sect — the  non-believers,  or  rather  the  believers  in  not 
believing — and  see  how  they  are  playing  into  their  hands.  This 
is  the  religion  which  they  are  foisting  on  future  England. 

We  are  all  as  usual — getting  older,  etc.,  gradually  but  surely. 

TV.  J.  B.  TO  KEV.  H.  P.  LIDDON. 

WANTAGE  VICARAGE,  Dec.  12,  1869. 

Your  letters  always  open  a  whole  mine  of  thought,  and  I 
cannot  rest  without  giving  vent  to  some  of  the  things  that 
occur  to  me.  The  first  is  a  very  earnest  wish  that  you  could 
come  here,  were  it  only  for  a  night.  I  long  to  talk  over  some 
of  these  most  serious  matters  with  you.  You  see  I  live  so 
very  narrow  a  life,  among  my  flock  and  with  the  dear  good 
Sisters,  that  I  have  really  no  chance  of  knowing  what  the 
true  workings  of  things  are.  I  am  tied  by  the  leg,  and  Oxford 
near  as  it  is — and  still  more  London  with  its  stir  and  interests — 
are  almost  'terra  incognita'  to  me.  I  shrink  from  societies  and 
gatherings  and  the  like,  partly  from  sheer  occupation,  and 

lrThe  Right  Rev.  Addington  R  P.  Venables,  Bishop  of  Nassau, 
Bahamas,  1863  to  1876. 

Q 


242  THE    FRANCO-PRUSSIAN   WAR  1869 

partly  because  so  little  seems  to  me  to  come  from  them.  So 
in  regard  to  this  Temple1  business.  I  simply  know  the  fact 
that  he  is  designated  a  Bishop,  of  course  by  the  Prime  Minister, 
but  the  arguments  for  such  a  step  I  know  not.  I  take  it  for 
granted  that  Gladstone  has  condescended  to  explain  himself 
to  someone,  and  I  cherish  a  kind  of  hope  that  a  man  of  his 
goodness  and  intelligence  in  Church  questions  must  have  some 
kind  of  plausible  airoXoyla.  to  put  forth.  You  probably  know 
all  that  can  be  said  on  both  sides.  I  have  not  taken  any 
vigorous  part  in  the  matter,  because  I  conceive  that  the  evil 
lies  far  more  deep  than  the  mere  appointment  of  a  man  of 
T.'s  views.  It  lies,  as  it  seems  to  me,  in  the  co-existence  in 
one  community  of  three  sets  of  minds,  or  schools,  vitally 
differing  each  from  the  other,  cohering  simply  by  the  fact 
that  they  are  in  a  State  Establishment.  If  they  are  there, 
each,  I  suppose,  has  a  sort  of  claim  on  the  donors  of  patronage, 
and  it  is  only  a  question  of  time  when  its  claims  shall  be 
allowed.  If  a  man  of  T.'s  opinions  held  office  ...  of  course 
he  would  be  appointed  to-morrow,  made  Archbishop  of  Canter- 
bury if  a  vacancy  occurs.  Accidentally  there  happens  to  be 
a  Prime  Minister  of  (supposed)  High  Church  opinions,  and 
we  are  therefore  astonished  and  scandalised  by  his  selection 
of  Temple.  But  if  he  had  appointed  (say)  Bright,  the  principle 
of  evil  would  have  been  there  just  the  same,  only  waiting  its 
opportunity  to  start  into  life.  All  our  misfortunes  date  from 
and  have  their  origin  in  that  hideous  Gorham  decision.  When 
one  has  lived  through  that,  nothing  seems  unendurable.  Until 
that  has  been  dealt  [with],  we  have  nothing  for  it  but  to 
look  for  wave  after  wave  of  trouble.  And  what  pains  me  most 
is  to  see  how  the  moving  spirits  among  us  ignore  and  set 
aside  this.  Men  like  our  dear  friend  A.  H.  M.  and  those 
whom  the  Church  Times  represents,  go  on  perfectly  at  ease, 
until  they  are  told  to  wear  fewer  flounces  of  lace,  or  the  like, 
and  then  they  shriek  and  scold  as  if  life  depended  on  it.  I 
never  could  persuade  A.  H.  M.  to  take  up  the  Court  of  Final 
Appeal  with  a  will.  Now  the  E.  C.  U.  is  most  anxious  to 
do  so.  But  why  ?  Because  it  has  given  judgements  adverse 
to  Ritual,  not  because  it  is  inherently  evil. 

lrThe  Eight  Rev.  F.  Temple,  then  Bishop   Designate  of  Exeter, 
now  Archbishop  of  Canterbury. 


1869  THE   VALUE   OF   PROTESTS  243 

Touching  the  Oxford  meeting,  is  it  quite  impossible  to 
organise  a  counter  meeting?  You  cannot  be  worse  off  than  you 
are.  And  even  a  moderate  gathering  would  be  better  than 
none  at  all.  Dr.  Pusey,  Bright,  various  Heads  of  houses,  Stubbs, 
Medd,  Wall,  yourself,  and  others  whom  you  know  better  than 
I,  would  surely  constitute  a  meeting  whose  counterblast  would 
not  fall  impotent.  It  is,  I  think,  a  rule  that  'if  a  thing  cannot 
do  harm  and  may  do  it  [?  good],  it  is  best  to  do  it.'  The 
worst  that  can  follow  is  that  people  may  consider  such  a 
meeting  inferior  in  influence  to  the  first.  And  if  they  do, 
it  is  possible  that  this  may  encourage  the  enemy  to  proceed. 
But  the  enemy  is  at  your  doors  now;  and  certainly  silence 
will  not  keep  him  away.  I  have  great  faith  in  those  who 
fight  losing  games !  It  sometimes  happens  that  a  chance  occurs 
when  people  least  expect  it.  However  you  of  course  know  all 
about  this  far  better  than  I.  Do  try  to  pay  us  a  visit. 

W.  J.  B.  TO  REV.  H.  P.  LIDDON. 

WANTAGE  VICARAGE,  Dec.  15,  1869. 

Thank  you  very  much  for  your  letter  of  yesterday.  I  am 
tempted  to  send  you  the  enclosed  which  I  have  just  received, 
as  an  interesting  and  somewhat  typical  statement  of  views.  It 
is  written  by  a  really  good  fellow,  in  Holy  Orders,  a  Fellow  of 
Trin.  Coll.  Cam.,  with  whom  I  had  ventured  to  expostulate  when 
I  saw  his  name  at  that  meeting  at  St.  John's.  Curiously  enough, 
from  different  premises  he  and  you  seem  to  arrive  at  the  same 
conclusion,  viz.  the  desirableness  of  breaking  up  the  collegiate 
system.  ...  I  try  and  try  to  put  myself  into  these  men's 
attitude  of  thought  and  I  cannot.  I  cannot  understand  what 
are  the  motives  that  are  at  work  within  them.  I  quite  under- 
stand your  republican  unbeliever  who  runs  atilt  at  everything 
human  and  divine,  except  his  own  wild  vagaries.  But  what 
thoroughly  puzzles  me  is  why  men  who  profess  to  believe  in 
something,  who  call  themselves  Churchmen,  who  accept  our 
Lord's  Divinity  and  Atonement,  should  lend  themselves  to 
forward  the  work  of  destruction  and  help  to  break  down  all 
those  barriers  by  which  faith  has  been  kept  alive  in  our  own 
land.  It  is  easy,  of  course,  to  say  that  the  faith  can  take  care 
of  itself.  But  that  argument,  fairly  worked  out,  would  do  away 


244  THE   FRANCO-PRUSSIAN    WAR  1870 

with  the  very  existence  of  the  Church.     What  is  that  but  the 
divinely  appointed  Body  to  preserve  the  deposit  intact  1 

May  I  say  one  thing,  my  dear  friend  ?  Do  you  not  think 
that  it  would  be  well  for  you  not  so  very  much  to  inhabit  the 
House  of  Mourning?  You  have  had  so  very  much  of  sorrow 
during  the  last  few  years  that  it  cannot  have  failed  to  give 
all  things  a  somewhat  mournful  aspect  to  you — and  is  this 
quite  wholesome  ?  Pray  forgive  me  for  saying  this.  .  .  . 

W.  J.  B.  TO  REV.  CANON  LIDDON. 

WANTAGE  VICAEAGE,  Feb.  20,  1870. 

I  have  been  most  busy  for  the  last  twelve  days,  preaching 
and  talking  till  I  was  more  than  weary  to  our  dear  Sisters  at 
Bedminster,  Plymouth,  and  Lostwithiel,  and  to  the  various  con- 
gregations and  workers  and  friends  connected  with  each  of  the 
little  communities.  Most  interesting  and  most  successful  they 
are,  winning  souls  and  drawing  love  to  themselves,  and  proving 
more  and  more  clearly  that  in  them  we  have  the  true  'missing 
link'  which  can  bring  all  classes  into  one,  and  train  souls  to 
accept  the  '  sincere  milk  of  the  word.'  You  will  think  me  very 
enthusiastic,  but  you  must  forgive  me.  My  heart  is  greatly 
moved  at  seeing  what  organisation,  self-sacrifice,  can  do,  even 
with  such  minute  branches  as  we  have  been  able  to  plant  out. 
It  is  fortunate  for  you  that  I  am  not  likely  to  see  you  for 
some  time,  else  you  would  have,  I  fear,  a  tremendous  outpouring. 
Well,  all  this  prelude  is  to  explain  why  I  have  not  written  to 
you  before,  not  to  congratulate  you,  for  I  really  cannot  con- 
gratulate any  one  on  receiving  ecclesiastical  preferment  (even 
without  cure  of  souls,  the  responsibility  of  a  high  place  is,  'a 
mon  avis,'  very  great),  but  to  say  how  deeply  I  am  interested 
in  all  that  concerns  you,  and  therefore  not  the  least  in  this,1 
which  seems  to  open  out  a  new  sort  of  life  to  you.  Very 
earnestly  I  pray  that  in  this,  as  in  so  much  else,  you  may  have 
the  door  opened  to  you  to  spend  and  be  spent  for  Him  Whom 
only  in  this  world  and  for  ever  it  is  worth  while  for  a  reasonable 
being  to  love  and  to  serve. 

I  feel  unhappy  at  the  thought  of  your  being  separated  from 
Oxford,  and  I  cannot  think  how  the  great  cause  will  bear  your 

1  The  Eev.  H.  P.  Liddon  was  appointed  Canon  of  St.  Paul's  in  1870. 


1870  A   HOLIDAY    IN   WAR  TIME 


245 


removal.     Is  it  not  possible  that  you  may  still  retain  your  con- 
nexion with  it? 

In  the  summer  of  1870  he  was  taking  his  holiday 
in  North  Germany,  and  at  Cologne  came  for  the 
first  time  in  contact  with  visible  tokens  of  the 
Franco-Prussian  War.  The  sight  of  the  sick  and 
wounded,  and  the  accounts  of  the  great  battles,  so 
moved  him  to  be  up  and  doing,  and  to  take  part 
in  the  work  of  the  Red  Cross  Association,  that  he 
went  to  the  English  Chaplain  at  Berlin  and  asked 
if  he  could  render  any  help.  He  was  referred  to 
the  Ambassador,  Lord  Augustus  Loftus,  who  replied 
that  he  had  no  applications.  Finding  he  could  do 
nothing,  he  dismissed  the  subject  from  his  mind 
and  continued  his  tour.  In  crossing  the  water  on 
his  way  home,  he  met  with  a  lady  who  had  been 
acting  as  chief  of  the  nurses  at  Sedan,  and  she  said, 
"  We  want  you  to  come  out ;  you  will  be  useful 
among  us  in  many  ways."  After  due  consultation, 
he  went  to  Colonel  Loyd  Lindsay  and  offered  his 
services,  which  were  gladly  accepted.  He  received  a 
commission  under  the  Red  Cross  Society,  and  went  out 
in  September  to  Arlon,the  place  selected  for  the  English 
depot.  In  a  lecture  which  he  afterwards  gave  in 
the  Wantage  Church  Reading  Room,  he  detailed 
his  experiences.  He  said  the  collection  of  stores 
afforded  evidence  of  the  benevolence  of  the  English 
people,  but  at  the  same  time  showed  their  utter 
ignorance  of  things  needed.  He  was  requested  by 
Captain  Brackenbury  to  proceed  to  Sedan  to  ascertain 
the  numbers  of  the  wounded  there  and  in  the  neigh- 


246  THE    FRANCO-PRUSSIAN   WAR  1870 

bouring  villages,  and  the  requirements  of  the  various 
hospitals.  He  found  great  difficulty  in  getting  ad- 
mitted into  Sedan,  where  he  became  acquainted  with 
the  horrors  of  war  in  the  most  terrible  form.  There 
were  about  2000  wounded  in  Sedan,  and  an  average 
of  150  in  each  of  the  20  villages  he  visited.  Subse- 
quently he  went  to  Saarbrlicken.  It  was  always  a 
great  sorrow  to  him  that  he  was  prevented  continuing 
this  work,  which,  as  he  said,  really  seemed  to  lift  one 
above  the  earth,  but  the  dangerous  illness  of  one 
of  his  curates  from  typhoid  fever  recalled  him  to 
Wantage. 

Most  of  the  letters  written  at  this  time  have  been 
preserved,  and  give  a  vivid  picture  of  what  he  saw. 

W.  J.  B.  TO  HIS  WIFE. 

COLOGNE,  Aug.  24,  1870. 

...  I  have  had  a  great  deal  of  talk  with  Harperath,1  and  the 
more  I  hear,  the  more  wicked  and  wanton  the  whole  thing 
appears,  and  the  more  I  feel  that  the  Prussians  are  justified  in 
all  that  they  have  done — so  far.  They  may  be  stiff,  perky,  un- 
pleasant neighbours  and  the  like,  but  there  was  no  act  of  theirs 
to  justify  L.  N.  in  declaring  war  at  this  tremendous  cost.  And 
they  are  quite  right  in  resolving  that,  for  this  generation  at 
least,  the  French  shall  know  what  war  really  means.  While  I 
write,  I  wait  for  the  arrival  of  the  daily  steamer,  filled  with 
wounded,  to  be  distributed  here  and  at  Diisseldorf.  The 
Deutz  Hotel  opposite  has  the  Cross  flying  to  show  that  it  is 
taking  them  in,  and  there  is  an  ambulance  of  some  kind  on  the 
quay  of  the  steamers.  The  quay  is  covered  with  people,  and 
will  be  more  so — with  lint,  chairs,  fruit,  wine,  etc.  The  whole 
of  Cologne  is  filled  with  '  landwehr '  steady,  stalwart,  soldierlike, 

xThe  landlord  of  his  hotel  at  Cologne,  and  a  friend  of  many 
years'  standing. 


1870  COLOGNE    IN    1870  247 

men  between  thirty  and  forty,  who  are  going  off  to  supply  the 
places  of  the  first  line,  the  regulars.  These  'landwehr'  have  all 
passed  through  their  military  course;  many  have  fought  at 
Sadowa,  etc.,  as  their  medals  and  crosses  show,  and  they  leave 
at  home  in  farms,  etc.,  wives  and  children.  Many  of  them  are 
gentlemen,  or  at  least  of  the  better  classes,  as  is  easy  to  perceive : 
and  here  they  are  going  off  to-morrow  to  become  food  for 
powder,  because  the  French  choose  to  go  to  war.  Harperath's 
whole  body  of  servants,  including  a  'boots'  who  has  been  with 
him  twelve  or  fourteen  years,  and  who  cried,  he  said,  like  a  child 
to  leave  him,  must  be  off  to  the  war.  He  told  me  that 
for  a  day  or  two  literally  he  and  Madame  were  left  alone. 
Fortunately  there  were  no  'Reisende.'  Can  we  wonder  that 
the  Prussians  are  stern  in  their  justice,  and  that  the  shops  are 
full  of  indignant  chaff  or  rather,  bitter  satire  sometimes  not 
very  refined,  on  L.  N.,  Eugenie,  and  little  'Loulou.'  All  his 
dicta  are  travestied,  e.g.  TEmpire  c'est  la  paix'  and  the  'Baptism 
of  fire.'  They  never  forget  to  give  full  dimensions  to  the 
'corporation'  of  this  'Empereur,'  and  all  the  'diablerie'  in  which 
the  Germans  delight,  comes  out  in  one  form  or  another.  'A 
dream  and  the  reality,'  represents  L.  B.,  etc.,  greeted  by  Victory, 
about  to  enter  Berlin.  Underneath  the  whole  French  army 
is  passing  under  the  yoke.  Then  'Vaterland's  Lieder,'  'Die 
Wacht  am  Rhein,'  etc.,  are  everywhere.  Harperath  tells  me 
that  all  business  is  stopped,  and  well  it  may  be.  Two  days  after 
war  was  declared  Cologne  was  full,  every  one  rushing  home. 
One  night  the  Swiss  train  from  Basle  threw  800  upon  the  town. 
People  rushed  up  and  down  frantically  to  find  beds.  His 
house  was  filled  with  all  sort  of  swells.  A  few  days  after  all 
was  gone,  and  the  soldiers  swarming  into  the  trains.  The  33rd 
went  out  3000  strong,  and  returned  in  a  fortnight  with  300 
survivors.  They  were  all,  he  said,  clean,  well  set  up  young  men. 
All  Cologne  is  in  mourning.  His  wife  has  two  cousins  in  the 
war  and  another  is  off  to-morrow.  .  .  . 

Well,  my  next  will  be  from  Berlin.  I  shall  know  then 
something  of  my  future.  I  could  easily  give  a  fortnight  if  it 
would  be  of  any  avail.  If  not,  I  suppose  that  I  shall  return 
upon  my  steps  and  find  my  way  home.  May  the  Calais  route 
be  open. 


248  THE  FRANCO-PRUSSIAN    WAR  1870 

W.  J.  B.  TO  HIS  WIFE. 

STADT  ROM,  BERLIN,  Aug.  29,  1870. 

So  much  has  happened  since  I  wrote  from  Cologne  that  I 
hardly  know  how  to  begin  or  where  to  end.  I  will  begin  at 
the  end.  I  told  you  that  I  had  made  up  my  mind  to  offer 
myself,  if  any  use  could  be  made  of  me,  for  the  care  of  the 
wounded,  or  rather  for  the  care  of  those  in  charge  of  them. 
I  went  therefore  to  the  eleven  A.M.  matins  at  the  Monbijou 
Palace,  and  spoke  to  the  chaplain,  a  Mr.  Belson,  who  has 
been  thirty -three  years  here,  and  talks  with  so  strong  a 
German  accent  that  I  took  him  for  one.  He  seemed  to  think  the 
thing  practicable.  The  Ambassador,  Lord  Augustus  Loftus,  was 
however  at  Potsdam,  three-quarters  of  an  hour's  rail  from  Berlin, 
and  as  the  matter  was  pressing  he  advised  me  to  go  to  Potsdam 
and  there  catch  him.  He  wrote  a  note  of  introduction.  Ac- 
cordingly I  started  at  three,  duly  arrived  at  Potsdam,  and  of 
course  found  H.  E.  out  for  the  day.  However,  I  asked  his 
dining  hour — seven,  said  the  somewhat  surly  Prussian,  who 
kept  the  door — and  meanwhile  I  addressed  myself  to  dinner, 
of  which  I  got  an  ample  allowance — excellent  crayfish  soup, 
beef  steak,  butter,  cheese,  and  unexceptionable  beer  for  18^ 
groschen !  Then  I  wandered  into  Sans  Souci,  and  saw  the  water- 
works— poor  and  stupid — and  the  old  '  Schloss,'  and  the  new 
'Schloss,'  and  the  purlieus  of  'der  alte  Fritz,'  and  thought  of 
the  queer  lots  who  had  promenaded  there;  and  then  I  went 
back  to  22  Weinmeister  Strasse,  a  very  long  walk,  where  is 
the  Gesandschaft's  summer  residence.  I  believe  that  he  was 
at  dinner,  though  I  called  at  6.30,  and  that  seven  was  some 
dodge  of  the  porter's.  However,  he  did  see  me,  and  told  me, 
as  I  thought  very  probable,  that  there  was  really  nothing 
that  he  knew  of  in  which  I  could  be  utilised,  and  so  there  is 
an  end  of  that.  I  made  an  offering  for  the  wounded  through 
the  chaplain;  and  at  all  events  I  feel  that  I  have  done  my 
best.  You  may  think  it  Quixotic,  but  if  you  saw  the  carriages 
full  of  prisoners  and  wounded,  and  read  and  heard  the  accounts 
fresh  from  the  battlefield,  you  would  not,  I  think,  be  surprised 
that  one  should  long  to  help,  even  if  it  were  but  scraping 
'  charpie.'  .  .  .  There  are  but  few,  comparatively,  of  the 
wounded  here,  but  heaps  of  prisoners  at  Spandau,  the  fortress 


1870  NAPOLEON    1ST   GEFANGEN  249 

not  far  off.  .  .  .  But  there  are  no  rows.  Everything  is 
perfectly  calm  and  quiet.  The  news  shops  only  and  the  print 
shops  are  besieged.  I  quite  marvel  at  the  simple  undated 
demeanour  of  the  people.  It  is  not  that  they  are  not  interested, 
but  their  self-respect  restrains  them.  If  you  talk  to  any  one  you 
very  soon  find  out  what  lies  underneath.  Meanwhile  the  war 
slays  its  tens  of  thousands,  and  you  see  people  in  mourning, 
just  enough  to  show  that  the  blow  cuts  deep.  .  .  . 

W.  J.  B.  TO  HIS  WIFE. 

KOLN,  Sept.  4,  1870. 

.  .  .  Here  I  am  at  last,  having  arrived  last  night ;  as  usual. 
I  need  not  tell  you  how  the  chorus  from  Paderborn  here  is 
'  Napoleon  ist  gefangen.'  I  heard  it  first  at  eight  A.M.,  and  the 
whole  line  of  railway  (at  least  at  all  the  stations)  is  decorated 
with  green  boughs  and  flags,  and  resounds  with  the  shouts  of 
boys  and  men  in  and  out  of  the  train.  This  seems  like  the 
beginning  of  the  end.  It  is  quite  clear  that  the  French  have 
nothing  to  oppose  the  solid  steam-engine-like  movement  of 
the  German  troops.  As  I  felt  sure  after  the  first  battle,  the 
French  are  out -numbered,  out -manoeuvred,  and  ont-manned. 
The  Germans  are  better  all  through.  The  more  I  see  of 
these  Germans,  the  more  rejoiced  I  am  at  their  success.  They 
deserve  it.  They  have  made  sacrifices  of  the  most  tremendous 
kind,  and  they  are  merely  obtaining  that  for  which  they  have 
been  willing  to  pay  the  most  costly  price,  i.e.  security  from 
a  very  vexatious  and  capricious  neighbour.  It  is  absolutely 
absurd  to  suppose  that  the  Germans  could  court  war.  Think 
what  war  is  to  them.  It  is  not  as  with  us,  a  mere  risking  of 
the  off-scouring  of  the  nation,  nor  as  with  the  French,  a  matter 
of  conscription  from  which  the  wealthier  and  better  can  escape, 
but  it  is  an  affair  which  touches  the  whole  nation.  As  I  read 
in  the  Norddeutsche  Zeitung  or  some  such  name,  a  sort  of 
Government  paper,  yesterday,  in  a  battle  there  stand  side  by 
side  the  master  of  a  manufactory  and  his  men,  professors 
from  the  university,  married  men,  clerks  from  offices,  and 
nothing  but  necessity  to  protect  life  and  land,  no  love  of 
glory,  no  desire  to  add  fresh  territory,  or  the  like  would 
induce  them  to  go  out.  They  are  not  '  enfants  perdus '  or 


250  THE   FRANCO-PRUSSIAN   WAR  1870 

gladiators  or  adventurers,  but  solid  steady  men,  for  the  loss 
of  whom  nothing  can  compensate.  It  was  a  cruel  and  wanton 
act  of  him  who  forced  them  into  this  bloody  war,  and  now 
that  he  is,  as  they  say,  "caught  in  a  mouse-trap,"  you  may 
rely  on  it,  there  will  not  be  "my  brother  Benhadad,"  but 
something  just  and  stern  will  be  his  portion.  As  the  papers 
rightly  say,  "The  French  might  have  been  at  peace  with  us 
for  centuries,  we  wanted  no  war;  but  we  are  determined  to 
give  them  a  lesson  now  which  they  will  recollect  for  at  least 
another  century."  I  fully  believe  from  all  I  hear  and  read 
that  they  will  annex  Strassburg,  and  probably  Alsace.  I  am 
sorry  for  this,  but  I  am  not  surprised.  If  you  could  see,  as 
I  have  seen,  the  wounded  borne  through  the  streets  on  '  Bahre  * 
on  men's  shoulders,  and  the  lists  of  dead  which  the  newspapers 
give  day  after  day,  you  would  feel  that  the  Germans  were 
right  in  'scotching'  this  serpent  of  France,  which  has  for 
so  many  years  raised  its  head  and  threatened  to  swallow  them. 
Nothing  is  more  foolish  than  for  the  '  junker  conservatif '  party 
in  England  to  hanker  after  the  French,  except  for  the  Radical 
party  to  imagine  that  the  German  cause  is  the  cause  of  liberty. 
The  Prussian  regime  is  at  least  as  despotic  as  the  French.  It 
is  true  that  one  is  governed  by  a  king,  the  other  by  an  emperor; 
but  the  principle  of  government  is  exactly  the  same  in  each. 
In  fact,  the  name  of  emperor  applies  rightly  only  to  the 
Emperor  of  Rome.  It  is  the  equivalent  secular  to  the  Pope, 
and  as  there  can  be  but  one  Pope,  so  only  one  emperor.  King, 
grand  duke,  elector,  are  all  in  truth  absolute.  But  the  English 
ignoramus  does  not  take  this  in,  and  shudders  at  the  word 
emperor.  Cologne  was  thoroughly  alive  last  night.  Cannons 
were  firing  from  the  Caserne  across  the  river,  and  the  whole 
city  was  hung  with  flags,  and  brilliantly,  if  not  ingeniously, 
illuminated.  You  may  imagine  how  picturesque  was  the  Hohe 
Strasse  in  its  narrowness  and  the  height  of  the  houses.  I 
wandered  about  for  an  hour  or  more.  All  the  people  were 
orderly ;  there  was  no  evil,  as  far  as  I  could  see,  of  any  kind, 
either  of  drunkenness  or  otherwise.  Joy  was  on  every  face. 
A  regiment  of  boys  with  coloured  lamps  on  poles,  marched 
in  quick  time  singing  some  patriotic  song,  and  the  Caserne 
on  the  other  side  of  the  river  was  very  lively.  Old  Harperath 
mounted  a  fine  twenty  years'  old  Prussian  eagle,  and  tallow  was 


1870  UNDER  THE    RED    CROSS  251 

plentifully  displayed  in  the  windows  facing  the  streets.  With 
him  I  have  had  much  talk.  The  dinner  to-day  was  at  first 
literally  a  table  d'hote,  for  he  and  I  were  the  only  diners. 
Afterwards  madame  came,  and  I  think  five  more  guests.  But 
he  is  very  cheerful.  He  invested  5000  thalers  in  the  Prussian 
loan,  and  besides  good  interest,  his  purchase  is  now  worth 
£150  premium.  This  makes  up  for  other  misfortunes  in  the 
fewness  of  Eeisende.  I  am  occupying  the  room  which  you  and 
E.  had  last  year,  with  the  oleanders  and  view  of  the  Rhine. 
.  .  .  Whom  should  I  meet  in  the  Dom  this  morning  but 
the  Master  of  Trinity  and  Mrs.  Thompson.  He  was  disposed 
to  be  very  chatty,  thought  that  the  German  papers  have  been 
too  bragging  and  exacting.  He  forgets  to  make  the  allowances 
for  a  people  who  have  suffered  for  years  under  the  provocation 
of  France,  and  who  have  suddenly,  and  to  their  own  surprise, 
found  themselves  the  strongest  people  in  Europe.  All  I  can 
say  of  my  own  experience  is  that,  for  civility,  if  you  treat  them 
rightly,  I  know  none  who  surpass  them.  They  will  stand  no 
nonsense,  and  they  have  no  grimace  about  them,  but  in  all 
essentials  there  is  nothing  to  be  complained  of. 

He  returned  to  England,  and  started  again  for 
the  seat  of  war,  to  serve  under  the  Red  Cross 
Society  for  aid  to  the  sick  and  wounded,  on 
Sept.  20. 

W.  J.  B.  TO  HIS  WIFE. 

ARLON,  Sept.  23,  1870. 

Here  I  am  at  headquarters,  going  off  to-day  on  a  job  .  .  . 
as  '  eclaireur '  to  find  out  what  is  wanted  in  all  the  country 
round  Sedan.  I  am  on  a  roving  commission  to  buy  myself 
a  horse  and  get  on  as  I  can,  reporting  diligently  to  headquarters ; 
I  hope  that  I  shall  do  it  all  right,  but  am  anxious,  as  you  may 

suppose.     They  want  more  men,  and  I  mentioned .     Capt. 

Brackenbury  eagerly  accepted.  But  at  dinner  I  heard  so  much 
of  the  dysentery  and  typhus  at  Saarbriick  that  I  told  them  that 
I  feared  to  send  for  him.  .  .  .  The  weather  is  lovely,  so 
bright  and  calm.  The  country  too  is  very  charming.  My 
route  is  (1)  to  Libramont ;  (2)  Bouillon,  where  I  have  a  letter  to 


252  THE    FRANCO-PRUSSIAN    WAR  1870 

the  commandant;  (3)  to  Sedan,  where  I  hope  to  sleep,  and  then 
about  the  country,  especially  to  Donchery. 

\V.  J.  B.  TO  HIS  WIFE. 

SEDAN,  Sept  24,  1870. 

Here  I  am  in  the  centre  of  all  the  worst  suffering  that  has 
fallen  on  this  unfortunate  land.  I  arrived  here  yesterday  even- 
ing, and  a  young  doctor  who  was  with  us  distinctly  perceived 
and  pointed  out  to  me  the  smell  of  putrefying  human  flesh,  as  we 
drew  near  the  gates  of  the  town.  But  I  had  better  begin  at  the 
beginning  and  give  you  the  whole  of  my  story.  I  wrote  last 
on  Thursday  from  Arlon,  having  just  received  my  instructions  as 
'  eclaireur,'  and  having  my  journey  before  me.  I  have  now,  I 
hope,  half  accomplished  my  errand,  and  finished  with  Sedan.  I 
left  Arlon  by  the  10.30  train,  and  proceeded  by  train  to 
Libramont,  thence  by  two  omnibuses  to  Sedan,  changing 
'  voitures '  at  Bouillon.  In  the  train  I  travelled  with  a  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Beauclerk,  whom  I  had  met  the  day  before.  They 
were  at  Sedan  at  the  time  of  the  bombardment,  and  were  among 
the  first  to  look  after  the  wounded.  They,  with  some  Belgian 
gentlemen  and  ladies,  had  bought  straw  and  carried  the  wounded 
on  a  roughly-formed  ambulance,  till  better  arrangements  could 
be  made.  They  described  the  sight  of  the  80,000  prisoners, 
guarded  like  sheep,  with  a  few  hundreds  of  Uhlans  behind  and 
before,  driving  them  in  with  their  lances  if  they  straggled. 
Mrs.  B.  had  her  apron  full  of  bread  which  she  gave  to  the 
prisoners,  and  was  threatened  with  death  by  a  Prussian  officer 
for  doing  so.  In  the  omnibus  I  came  upon  an  American  Major- 
General,  who  had  permission  from  Count  Bismarck  to  join  the 
royal  headquarters.  We  had  the  coup6  to  ourselves  and  made 
a  pleasant  journey  of  it.  He  is  a  strong-built  soldierly  man, 
named  Hazen,  and  had  commanded  a  'corps  d'arme"e'  in  the 
American  War.  He  knew  no  French  nor  German,  but  otherwise 
was  a  thoughtful  and  well  read  man,  full  of  fun.  ...  I 
also  travelled  with  two  doctors,  one  an  old  army  surgeon  who 
had  been  in  the  Crimean  Campaign  ;  the  other,  a  bright  young 
fellow,  also  a  doctor,  named  Colley — late  Davies — formerly  scholar 
of  Trin.  Coll.  Cam.  We  all  four  consorted  together  and  made 
a  merry  time  of  it.  The  road  went  through  the  great  forest 


1870  THE    HORRORS   OF   WAR 


253 


of  Ardennes,  and  was  very  beautiful  in  parts  ;  atmosphere  as 
before,  charming.  When  we  were  some  miles  from  Sedan  a 
spring  broke,  and  we  had  to  creep  all  the  way.  Thus  we  found 
out  what  is  a  town  in  state  of  siege.  We  arrived  at  Sedan  at 
7.30,  and  found  the  gates  shut  for  the  night.  Two  poor  young 
mothers  with  their  babies  whom  in  the  danger  they  had  sent  off 
into  Belgium,  were  of  our  party,  and  there  seemed  before  us 
nothing  but  the  woods,  in  which  to  this  day  dead  bodies  are 
continually  found.  However,  by  proper  application  and  suppli- 
cation, we  got  in  with  such  luggage  as  we  could  carry,  and  then 
came  the  question  of  a  bed.  The  first  hotel,  de  1'Europe,  was 
crammed,  and  poor  madame,  evidently  worried  to  death  by 
applications  for  beds,  was  inclined  to  be  savage  at  me  for 
pressing  her  to  find  us  (the  M.-G.  and  myself)  somewhere  to 
stow  our  carcases.  I  bethought  me  of  a  gar^on  to  conduct  us, 
and  promised  him  a  franc  if  he  would  find  us  a  lodging.  This 
acted,  and  we  were  soon  in  the  strangest  house  I  ever  saw.  It 
seems  like  nothing  outside ;  and  inside,  as  the  landlady  told  me, 
she  found  room  for  forty-five  people.  There  is  a  spiral  staircase 
which  saves  room,  and  off  it  open  a  regular  rabbit  warren  of 
'  chambres  a  deux  pieces,'  in  one  of  which  M.-G.  and  I  took  up 
our  abode.  The  smells  are  awful  inside  and  outside,  and  I  have 
just  soaked  our  room  with  carbolic  acid,  which  a  benevolent 
doctor  has  bestowed  upon  me.  (We  are  all — I  mean  the  '  rouge 
croix '  folk — very  soon  hail-fellow-well-met.)  I  think  that  the 
Prussians  need  only  enclose  the  place  for  a  few  days  to  fill  it 
with  typhoid.  Everywhere  the  drains  are  most  dreadful,  but  this 
corner  seems  the  worst  of  all.  Everybody  must  be  at  home  at 
nine  P.M.  else  he  is  in  danger  of  being  arrested — '  nicht  nach 
neun  Freilass,'  said  a  Prussian  soldier  to  me  when  I  asked  whether 
it  was  true.  We  got  a  good  meal  at  the  hotel,  and  madame  be- 
came very  gracious  when  she  found  that  she  was  relieved  from 
the  difficulty  of  the  bed.  This  morning  I  had  planned  to  get  a 
'  voiture '  and  hunt  up  the  different  places  to  which  I  was  bound, 
but  soon  found  it  hopeless.  No  one  would  let  me  have  a  horse, 
and  the  various  '  patrons '  were  disposed  to  be  very  sulky.  I 
caught  something  about  '  autorisation,'  and  gathered  that  if  I 
could  get  a  command  from  the  Prussian  authorities  I  could  floor 
them.  First  I  got  hold  of  a  bright  sort  of  a  fellow,  a  hanger-on 
at  the  hotel,  and  engaged  him  for  the  day;  then  after  breakfast 


254  THE    FRANCO-PRUSSIAN    WAR  1870 

started  off  '  pour  reclamer  mes  effets,'  which  were  numerous 
owing  to  my  purchases  at  Brussels,  from  the  omnibus  bureau.  I 
got  them  and  the  M.-G.'s  portmanteau  with  some  difficulty,  and 
then  proceeded  to  the  Commandant's  office,  where  my  friend 
hoped  to  get  tidings  as  to  how  he  should  proceed  to  head- 
quarters. You  cannot  imagine  greater  politeness  than  the 
Germans  showed  us.  I  stated  the  case,  showed  the  permit,  and 
finally  had  the  pleasure  of  hearing  that  at  '  zwei  Uhr,'  a  German 
architect  was  to  be  sent  off  in  a  'Wagen,'  and  that  he  might 
go  with  him.  Then  I  thought  that  I  would  do  a  stroke  of  work 
for  myself,  and  accordingly  pleaded  the  importance  of  my  com- 
mission ;  and  readily  obtained  the  order  for  horses.  You  should 
have  seen  the  change  it  produced  on  the  state  of  things.  '  I 
might  have  what  I  liked,  when  I  liked,  how  1  liked.'  '  Would  I 
have  one  or  two  1 '  etc.,  etc.  So  I  arranged  to  do  my  work  here 
to-day  and  start  to-morrow  for  the  villages. 

My  first  point  was  the  Anglo-American  Ambulance  at  the 
barracks,  on  the  top  of  a  hill  overlooking  the  Meuse.  ...  I 
found  Miss  Pearson,  etc.,  and  C.  Wood.  With  them  I  arranged 
for  a  Celebration  at  eight  to-morrow  in  her  rooms.  .  .  .  She 
is  to  accompany  me  to-morrow. 

I  soon  found  that  no  one  could  really  help  me,  and  that 
I  must  take  my  own  line.  I  went  therefore  next  to  the  '  Societe 
Fran9aise  pour  le  secours  des  blesses,'  and  had  a  long  conver- 
sation with  M.  de  Martagnac,  who  is  its  head.  He  gave  me  a 
list  of  the  villages  where  wounded  are,  and  also  told  me  what 
was  chiefly  required.  I  was  particularly  anxious  to  obtain 
details,  and  not  generally  that  they  would  be  glad  of  anything 
that  we  could  send.  I  find  that  trousers  are  most  required.  The 
shells  have  torn  them  to  pieces.  On  the  whole  the  wounded  are 
gradually  being  '  evacues,'  by  which  it  is  meant  that  they  are 
being  sent  away.  Two  thousand  are  at  present  in  Sedan  arid  its 
neighbourhood.  Some  400  are  to  go  off  on  Monday  to  Charleroi 
and  the  N.  of  France.  The  Belgian  authorities  however  refuse 
to  receive  more. 

I  took  careful  notes  of  our  conversation,  and  went  on  to 
the  Couvent  de  1'Assomption,  which  a  letter  to  Colonel  Lindsay 
described  as  battered  in  and  made  by  the  Sisters  into  an 
Ambulance.  Their  resources,  it  was  added,  were  exhausted. 
The  Mother,  an  intelligent  German  from  Munich,  received  me, 


1870  SEDAN  255 

and  we  went  over  the  place  together.  They  have  now  no 
wounded,  only  sick.  Fever,  small-pox,  etc.  The  place  was 
scarcely  touched.  The  poor  nuns  had  hidden  themselves  in  the 
cellar,  like  wise  women,  and  they  had  plenty  of  everything, 
though  at  one  time  they  were  badly  off.  Cigars  would  be 
acceptable,  and  I  sent  them  300  out  of 's  stock. 

From  them  I  proceeded  to  the  French  Military  Hospital 
authorities,  and  met  there  the  first  really  serious  Frenchman  I 
have  seen.  A  boy  wanted  to  guide  me  to  the  battlefield,  and 
told  me  quite  cheerfully,  '  Mon  pere  a  ete  tue.'  The  women 
seem  to  feel  it  more.  I  could  not  persuade  one  of  these  in 
the  omnibus  that  the  Prussians  did  not  use  poisoned  bullets. 
She  would  have  it  so,  and  the  tears  came  into  her  eyes  when  she 
spoke  of  the  frightful  night  which  they  had  spent  when  the 
troops  were  driven  into  Sedan. 

This  officer  whom  I  saw  at  the  French  Military  Hospital 
interested  me  much.  He  seemed  thoroughly  beaten  down  by 
their  troubles,  yet  was  quite  intelligent  and  responsive,  and  grate- 
ful for  what  little  one  could  say  or  do.  From  him  I  heard  the 
same  story  of  lack  of  '  pantalons,'  and  he  showed  me  the  Belgian 
letters,  which  seemed  to  pain  him  a  good  deal.  Lastly  I  visited 
the  Prussian  medical  folk,  and  made  them  the  offer  of  a  chateau 
near  Arlon,  which  had  been  placed  at  Capt.  Brackenbury's  dis- 
posal— for  the  Belgians  do  not  refuse  the  Prussian  wounded. 
This  offer  required  a  good  deal  of  consideration.  The  question 
of  transport  is  very  difficult,  and  I  am  to  receive  an  answer 
to-morrow.  You  will  see  that  this  was  a  good  day's  work,  for 
each  visit  involved  a  good  deal  of  talk  and  thought.  .  .  .  •  I 
must  not  forget  to  say  that  I  prepared  an  elaborate  despatch,  and 
contrived  to  get  it  sent  off  by  private  hands  to  Capt.  Bracken- 
bury,  to  get  it  to-morrow,  Sunday. 

I  walked  to  Balon,  a  little  village  close  to  Sedan,  where  Porter 
and  his  Sisters  are.  He  was  out.  I  saw  a  doctor  with  whom  he 
lives,  a  pleasant  fellow,  quite  enchanted  with  P.,  and  promised,  if 
I  have  time,  to  dine  with  them  to-morrow.  This  doctor  gave  me 
the  carbolic  acid  with  directions  how  to  use  it.  Balon  is  much 
knocked  about  by  the  cannon  balls,  and  there  too  I  fell  in  with 
the  dreadful  smell  of  putrefying  human  flesh.  On  the  whole, 
I  must  confess  that  I  am  surprised  to  find  how  quickly  things 
seem  to  be  righting  themselves.  The  towns  will  not  suffer 


256  THE   FRANCO-PRUSSIAN   WAR  1870 

much.  The  Prussians  behave  themselves,  as  almost  all  people  of 
all  classes  tell  me,  very  well — pay  for  everything,  ill-use  no  one, 
do  not  swagger.  There  are,  of  course,  stories  of  this  man's  corn 
being  taken,  and  that  other  losing  his  wine ;  and  I  see  that  the 
feeling  of  the  nurses  and  swells  is  on  the  French  side,  but 
I  cannot  agree  with  them.  The  country  folk  will  certainly  suffer 
a  great  deal,  but  in  limited  localities.  I  have  not  yet  seen 
Bazeilles,  where  I  am  told  the  whole  place  is  utterly  destroyed, 
nor  the  battlefield  which  is  still  covered  with  debris  of  every 
kind.  The  peasants  alone  are  permitted  to  pick  them  up.  A 
lot  of  tourist  gents  are  already  on  the  spot,  trying  to  make 
capital  out  of  everything.  The  Prussian  sentry  was  refusing 
admission  to  two  regular  h-less  English  snobs,  when  I  went  up 
with  Miss  Pearson  to  the  Ambulance  this  afternoon.  She  was 
quite  a  match  for  them.  They  wanted  to  go  through  the 
Ambulance  and  see  the  wounded,  and  appealed  to  her  to  let 
them  in.  She  told  them  that  they  must  get  an  order  from 
the  '  Commandant.'  The  doctors  appear  to  be  a  good  set  of  men 
(English  I  mean),  kind,  intelligent,  unaffected. 

The  difficulty  of  the  situation  is  that  a  staff  of  workers  and  a 
great  depdt  of  stores  are  gathered  into  one  place — for  a  time 
they  are  wanted — then  the  wounded  become  fewer  from  death 
and  other  causes,  and  there  is  little  or  nothing  left  to  be  done. 
I  fancy  that  Metz  and  its  vicinity  will  soon  want  help ;  and  then 
will  come  the  Paris  work.  We  know  nothing  in  the  way  of 
news.  .  .  .  No  food  of  any  kind,  save  perhaps  bread,  can  be 
got  between  meal  times,  i.e.  eleven  and  six. 

I  do  not  know  how  Capt.  B.  will  look  at  my  despatch;  but 
I  have  really  got  a  good  insight  for  him  into  what  is  wanted 
here,  and  especially  what  is  not  wanted.  ...  I  am  so  far 
exposed  to  no  danger  whatever,  except  that  from  evil  odours, 
which  the  carbolic  acid  neutralises,  and  so  you  may  tell  every  one 
who  is  anxious  about  me.  And  that  I  cannot  write  more  letters, 
for  my  time  is  fully  taken  up.  .  .  . 

W.  J.  B.  TO  HIS  WIFE. 

SEDAN,  Sept.  25th. 

Although  I  wrote  you  yesterday  I  must  set  to  work  again 
this  evening,  and  give  you  my  impressions  fresh  after  the  work 


1870  ROUND    SEDAN  257 

of  to-day.  I  celebrated  Holy  Communion  this  morning  in  Miss 
Pearson's  room  in  the  Croix  Rouge.  The  congregation  consisted 
of  Miss  P.,  a  Mrs.  Mason,  whom  I  know  not,  and  C.  Wood. 
Then  we  had  matins  and  litany.  C.  W.  breakfasted  with  me 
at  the  H6tel  de  1'Europe,  and  I  was  about  to  start  at  ten  A.M., 
accompanied  by  Miss  P.,  on  my  journey  through  the  villages, 
when  R.  Porter  came  in.  Of  course  this  delayed  me ;  we  had 
a  quarter  of  an  hour's  chat  and  I  promised  to  make  my  way 
to  him  this  afternoon,  but  was  unable  to  do  so.  He  is  outside 
the  town,  and  the  gates  are  shut  at  seven.  Now  for  my 
expedition.  I  made  a  complete  tour  round  the  town,  beginning 
with  Bazeilles,  which  is  about  three  miles  south,  and  visiting 
Lamoncelle,  Darguy,  Givonne,  Oily,  Floing,  and  one  or  two 
besides.  This  kept  me  entirely  in  the  district  where  the  great 
battle  was  fought,  and  I  saw  all  the  remains  of  its  traces.  First 
of  all,  the  village  of  Bazeilles  is  utterly  destroyed.  It  is  a  large 
village,  1800  inhabitants,  a  sort  of  country-house  place  of  the 
bettermost  Sedan  folk,  and  full  of  woollen  workers  and  farmers. 
These  people  had  fired  on  the  Prussians  as  they  drove  the 
French  through  the  village,  and  every  house  was  deliberately 
fired.  It  is  simply  a  village  of  shells  of  houses,  and  the  road 
is  covered  with  tiles  and  bricks — not  many  of  the  people  were 
killed,  20  or  30  at  the  most,  which  was  exaggerated  into  300. 
Near  this  we  found  ambulances  established  in  a  large  chateau, 

under  the  charge  of  Mrs.  C and  the  Mother  Superior  of  All 

Saints.  The  former  was  busy  cooking,  and  a  wonderfully 
graceful  pretty  cook  she  looked,  dressed  in  a  large  cook's  apron ; 
but  not  a  bit  less  like  the  high-born  lady.  They  had  forty-eight 
wounded;  had  three  operations,  amputations,  the  day  before, 
but  were  well  supplied  with  everything.  Pyaemia,  in  spite  of 
all  their  care,  had  set  in,  and  they  had  lost  a  good  many.  The 
chateau  belonged  to  a  Comte  de  Fiennes  who  lives  in  the  south 
of  France ;  but  no  questions  are  asked  in  these  times,  and  every- 
thing, to  use  a  slang  expression,  is  '  walked  into '  without  scruple. 
We  then  drove  on  to  another  large  village,  La  Moncelle,  and 
found  both  Prussians  and  French  in  various  chateaux.  There 
were  a  good  many,  250  or  thereabouts,  gradually  however  being 
moved  away  to  Lille  and  to  Belgium.  We  distributed  freely  our 
stock  of  cigars  and  chocolate,  and  gave,  I  think,  much  satisfac- 
tion. Poor  fellows !  they  were — and  this  applies  universally — 

R 


258  THE   FRANCO-PRUSSIAN   WAR  1870 

patient  and  even  cheerful.  Only  in  one  case,  where  lock-jaw  had 
come  on,  was  there  any  moaning.  Some  faces  had  the  hectic 
of  fever,  some  the  pallor  of  death ;  but  they  showed  us  their 
wounds  and  the  bullets  which  had  been  extracted,  and  chatted 
about  their  homes.  Nothing  could  be  better  under  the  circum- 
stances than  the  treatment  they  received.  The  rooms  were 
quite  sweet  and  the  beds  clean.  Generally  they  had  bedsteads, 
sometimes  they  were  on  the  ground.  We  questioned  the  French 
carefully,  out  of  the  reach  of  the  Prussian  ears,  and  they  all 
had  one  story — that  they  were  well  taken  care  of  and  wanted 
for  nothing,  except  perhaps  sugar  in  their  coffee  or  matters  of 
no  great  importance.  Then,  I  think,  some  of  them  said  they 
were  left  too  long  without  drink.  Sometimes  we  were  told  by 
our  man,  a  handy  fellow  whom  I  have  employed  since  we  came 
here,  that  the  French  had  no  bread,  and  so  on;  but  when  we 
came  to  investigate  the  matter  it  invariably  turned  out  to  be 
a  thorough  mistake.  However,  as  I  said,  the  cigars  and  choco- 
late brought  many  a  smile  of  pleasure,  and  I  think  the  money 
was  well  laid  out.  We  went  through  pretty  nearly  the  same 
sort  of  careful  visitation  in  all  the  spots  where  wounded  were 
to  be  found.  In  several  places  they  had  all  departed,  and  there 
was  no  one  but  the  surgeons,  French  for  the  most  part,  and 
very  gentlemanly,  pleasant  men.  One  of  them  told  us  that 
the  German  terms  had  been  refused.  He  was  to  go  on  to 
Paris  without  delay. 

The  next  important  place  we  saw  was  Floing,  close  to  the 
great  cavalry  fight  in  which  20,000  cavalry  were  engaged.  We 
saw  there  150  French  and  Germans,  under  a  very  gentlemanly 
German  doctor,  who  gave  us  coffee,  and  who,  the  first  of  all 
we  had  visited,  specified  certain  things  for  which  he  would  be 
very  grateful.  We  had  some  difficulty  in  making  out  'kettel- 
sage,'  but  at  last  I  divined  it  to  be  a  surgical  instrument,  and 
so  it  proved  to  be.  I  made  him  write  all  down,  and  promised 
to  send  him  from  Arlon  all  that  could  be  got.  Ale  and  porter 
were  among  his  wants — strong  English,  not  the  light  German 
beer.  These  men  are  severely  wounded,  and  not  likely  quickly 
to  be  removed.  We  found  in  a  cottage  a  wounded  French 
officer ;  his  thigh  was  broken,  and  I  should  fear  that  he  was  in 
great  danger.  He  was  engaged  to  a  lady,  to  whom  he  begged 
us  to  transmit  a  letter  which  he  wrote  in  pencil  while  we  were 


1870  A   BATTLEFIELD  259 

there.  Alas !  she  resides  in  Paris.  How  is  it  to  reach  her  ? 
His  host  was  a  baker,  an  old  man  who  remembered  1815.  It 
was  nothing,  he  said,  to  this.  People  then  behaved  well — these 
very  Prussians — but  now  they  pillaged  everything.  His  two 
cows,  his  fodder,  his  flour,  all  his  stock-in-trade  was  carried  off 
in  Prussian  waggons.  His  wife  had  much  to  say  on  the  subject, 
and  she  brought  forward  triumphantly  her  grandson  who  had 
gained  three  prizes  at  school,  and  had  sold  them  for  five  francs 
to  help  the  family  in  their  troubles.  Notwithstanding  all  this 
the  old  couple  were  cheerful  and  hospitable,  and  brought  out 
a  bottle  of  wine  to  do  us  honour.  We  clinked  glasses  and 
drank  to  better  days.  He  told  me  that  the  peasants  would 
not  have  a  republic,  and  spoke  kindly  of  the  Emperor;  he  had 
been  deceived  by  bad  ministers;  if  he  had  himself  commanded 
things  would  have  gone  differently;  and  so  on.  The  weather 
has  been  very  favourable  for  the  wounded — bright,  without 
being  sultry,  and  there  has  been  little  wind.  A  large  proportion 
are  recovering,  and  even  men  who  have  lost  limbs  are  rapidly 
being  removed.  Carbolic  acid  is  freely  used. 

As  I  said  before,  we  passed  over  every  portion  of  the  huge 
battlefield.  It  was  seven  and  a  half  miles  long,  four  and  a  half 
broad.  The  natural  situation  most  lovely  as  usual  in  battle- 
fields;  two  long  lines  of  hills,  broken,  of  course,  by  water 
courses  and  undulations,  face  one  another,  on  which  the  two 
armies  had  their  cannon,  and  between  which  the  actual  fighting 
took  place.  On  the  left  of  the  French  position  is  a  wooded 
slope,  apparently  almost  impregnable.  This  it  was  which  the 
Crown  Prince  of  Saxony  carried  after  a  desperate  struggle,  in 
which  the  superior  physique  of  the  Germans  told.  They  drove 
the  slight  French  recruits,  as  I  was  told,  like  sheep  before  them. 
After  this  came  the  cavalry  battle  in  the  bottom  towards  the 
right  of  the  French,  in  which  the  Chasseurs  d'Afrique  were 
borne  down  by  Bismarck's  regiment.  Either  before  or  after  this 
the  French  cavalry  got  into  a  trap.  They  were  regularly 
hemmed  in  while  the  tremendous  Prussian  artillery  played  upon 
them.  The  scene  was  frightful — horses  and  men  fell  over  one 
another,  and  the  poor  horses  shrieked  piteously.  All  this  part 
of  the  field  was  trodden  to  pieces  with  horse  hoofs.  The  horses 
are  buried  under  mounds,  the  men  in  long  level  pits  on  which 
roughly-hewn  crosses  are  placed.  Even  now,  after  all  the  work 


260  THE    FRANCO-PRUSSIAN   WAR  1870 

of  the  relic-hunters  and  the  peasants  (to  whom  an  exclusive  right 
is  given,  by  a  decree,  of  picking  up  the  remains),  the  ground 
is  scattered  with  knapsacks  and  shakos,  iron  cuirasses,  and  the 
like.  My  man  picked  up  for  me  the  cartridge  box  of  a  mitrail- 
leuse, which  I  must  try  to  bring  home.  Except  in  this  particular 
spot  there  is  not  much  to  see.  Here  and  there  one  saw  some- 
thing which  betokened  soldiers'  presence,  or  the  movements  of 
artillery ;  but  I  am  quite  sure  that  if  I  had  known  nothing  of 
the  history  of  the  time  I  should  have  passed  by  without  per- 
ceiving that  a  bloody  battle  had  been  fought. 

One  of  our  party  the  day  before  yesterday,  in  bringing  a 
fourgon  from  Arlon,  actually  picked  up  a  man  who  had  lain 
in  the  woods  wounded  since  the  battle.  He  had  lost  his  senses, 
and  wildly  asked  my  friend  which  party  had  won  the  victory. 
He  picked  him  up  and  brought  him  to  Sedan. 

Nothing  surprises  me  more  than  the  rapidity  with  which 
everything  is  falling  into  its  natural  condition.  Except  for  the 
German  soldiers  and  the  Red  Cross  people,  there  is  nothing  to 
betoken  the  terrible  distress  of  so  short  a  while  since.  The 
hotel  people  seem  rather  distraught,  but  the  crowd  of  visitors 
is  enough  to  account  for  that,  and  lodgings  are  hard  to  obtain. 
Tourist  gents  of  all  countries  are  flocking  in  to  roam  over  the 
battlefield.  This  will  help  to  put  some  money  into  the  people's 
pockets.  M.  de  Martagnac,  the  son  of  the  deputy  whom  I  saw 
this  morning  in  his  dressing-gown  before  I  started,  and  people 
of  his  rank,  are  depressed  and  serious;  but  the  folk  generally 
prefer,  I  really  believe,  the  German  to  the  French  soldiers. 
Porter  has  some  terrible  experiences  to  relate  of  the  atrocities 
of  the  Germans;  but  it  is  to  be  remembered  that  he  is  in  the 
very  heart  of  the  battle-ground,  where  wounded  fell  most  thickly, 
and  where  the  difficulty  of  treating  them  properly  was  very 
great.  I  hear  that  all  the  English  party  are  ordered  to  Arlon. 
I  am  naturally  going  there  to-morrow.  My  Prussian  order 
from  the  Commandant  stands  me  still  in  stead,  and  I  have 
ordered  a  '  voiture  a  deux  chevaux,'  which  I  hope  that  C.  Wood 
will  share  with  me.  I  go  by  Florenville,  carrying  my  own 
despatches.  .  .  . 

Arlon,  27th  Sept. — I  arrived  here  yesterday  at  six,  after,  as 
I  expected,  a  charming  drive.  Part  of  the  journey  was  over 
the  ground  of  the  day  before,  through  Bazeilles,  Balon,  etc. 


1870  RETURN   TO   ARLON  261 

I  stopped  for  a  few  minutes  to  see  R.  P.  and  his  party,  and 
left  them  a  bottle  of  eau  de  Cologne,  much  needed,  I  assure 
you,  in  these  parts.  I  saw  three  ambulances  under  the  hills, 
the  soldiers  were  mostly  badly-wounded  Germans.  They  were 
well  cared  for  and  happy.  One  of  the  Sisters  has  got  typhoid. 
The  road  went  right  through  the  battlefield,  and  I  was  surprised 
to  see  so  few  traces  of  what  had  happened ;  the  beetroot  crops 
were  uninjured,  though  the  men  and  guns  went  right  over  them. 
Of  course  there  were  such  things  as  old  knapsacks,  a  dead  horse 
or  two,  and  the  little  poplars  had  been  cut  down  by  the  Germans 
to  make  sleeping  places,  a  plan  which  they  prefer  to  the  trouble 
of  carrying  tents.  One  saw  these  little  huts  in  lots  here  and 
there.  At  one  house  near  Bazeilles  when  the  owner,  a  peasant, 
did  not  understand  some  order,  he  was  shot  close  to  his  own 
door.  We  passed  the  spot,  but  the  dead  were  all  buried  care- 
fully, and  there  were  no  sights  of  horror.  The  German  army 
regularly  scraped  up  the  French  from  the  Belgian  borders  and 
then  fell  upon  them,  as  I  have  described.  We  then  arrived  at 
Douzy,  where  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Beauclerk  established  an  English 
ambulance,  now  broken  up.  I  found  there  however  a  good 
many  wounded,  chiefly  Saxons,  after  the  great  attack;  they 
had  those  bright,  responsive  Saxon  faces,  mostly  fair,  a  few, 
however,  dark.  There  were  two  ambulances,  and  I  took  note 
of  what  they  required.  Mrs.  Loyd-Lindsay's  bottle  of  chloro- 
form came  usefully  to  hand  here.  They  were  out  of  it,  and 
most  thankful.  Then  we  drove  on  through  the  Ardennes,  the 
forest  opening  out  into  distant  views  of  lovely  atmospheric  tints. 
We  passed  a  wonderful  pilgrimage  place,  where  the  driver 
assured  me  that  miracles  were  constantly  wrought,  after  con- 
fession and  Communion.  .  .  . 

W.  J.  B.  TO  HIS  WIFE. 

SAARBRUCKEN,  Sept.  30,  1870. 

Well,  I  am  ashamed  to  write  this  letter,  for  in  fact  I  have 
done  nothing  worth  my  salt  since  I  wrote  before.  The  truth 
is  that  the  work  which  depended  on  Arlon  is  now  coming  to 
an  end.  The  wounded  are  in  course  of  speedy  removal,  and 
the  headquarters  of  the  Society  are  to  be  removed  to  this 
place.  .  .  .  The  lieutenant,  or  storekeeper,  Mr.  Bushnan, 


262  THE    FRANCO-PRUSSIAN   WAR  1870 

is  a  very  jolly  fellow,  and  received  me  most  kindly.  He  had 
Captain  B.'s  room  made  ready  for  me,  and  gave  me  all  informa- 
tion but  no  work.  I  must  stay  here  till  to-morrow  and  then  I 
am  to  start  off  as  '  eclaireur,'  taking  up  my  quarters  at  Kemilly, 
some  forty  miles  west  of  this  on  the  road  to  Metz.  This  is 
to  be  a  depot  of  the  Society,  and  I  hope  to  make  it  useful 
for  the  villages  round,  which  are  more  or  less  filled  with 
wounded.  I  wrote  to  you  last  from  Arlon,  and  gave  you  an 
account  of  the  stores,  etc.  It  is  a  strange  life,  as  you  may 
suppose,  to  find  oneself  in  the  midst  of  a  set  of  people  whose 
names  for  the  most  part  I  have  never  heard  before,  doctors 
young  and  old,  newspaper  correspondents,  agents  of  the  Society 
of  all  degrees,  young  and  middle-aged,  all  very  friendly,  working 
hard  when  there  is  work  to  do,  and  at  other  times  idling, 
chatting,  etc.  On  the  whole  they  seem  to  be  a  good  sort  of 
fellows,  with  plenty  of  work  in  them,  not  very  refined,  almost, 
I  should  think,  without  religion,  though  quite  proper  in 
language  and  far  from  jeering  or  mocking,  kind  and  really 
anxious  to  do  their  best.  .  .  .  From  Arlon  I  had  a  slow  but 
not  uninteresting  journey.  .  .  .  At  Conz,  a  lovely  village  in 
the  valley  under  the  hills  from  which  the  Moselle  is  fed, 
with  the  broad  river  flowing  under  groves  of  walnuts,  there 
was  a  long  wait,  nearly  four  hours.  The  train  had  been  taken 
off.  I  walked  about  therefore  with  my  friend  the  doctor,  and 
heard  the  same  story  as  Porter  tells,  that  after  two  or  three 
days  the  bulk  of  the  doctors  and  others  who  look  after  the 
sick  grow  weary  of  their  work  and  neglect  it.  He  says  that 
it  is  most  trying  and  wearying,  that  the  only  special  practice 
which  a  surgeon  learns  is  how  to  deal  with  comminuted  fractures, 
and  that  a  good  many  have  been  sent  out  who  have  neither 
heart  nor  skill.  Of  course  he  excepts  men  like  the  American 

Dr.  ,  Dr.  Frank,  and  Dr.   MacCormac.      He   says,  and  I 

think  wisely,  that  there  should  be  a  committee  of  surgeons  to 
pronounce  on  a  man's  capabilities,  and  that  those  sent  out 
should  not  be  paid  in  advance,  but  by  the  head  surgeon  at 
the  end  of  each  week's  work.  This  tallies  with  reason  and 
experience.  From  Conz  to  Saarbriicken  is  six  hours  nearly. 
The  road  along  the  valley  of  the  Saar  is  very  beautiful,  and 
the  atmosphere  as  before  was  exquisite  in  lights,  quite  sparkling 
and  effervescent.  In  fact,  the  weather  has  been  most  fortunate 


1870  SAARBRUCKEN  263 

for  the  poor  and  wounded.      Saarbriicken  you  remember,  not 
however    in    its    present    stirring   condition,    but   as    a    stupid 
sleepy   German   third-class  country   town,  paved   roughly,  and 
inhabited    by    a    rough    set    of    folks,    also   a   longish   distance 
from  its  huge  ugly  station.     It  is  not  asleep  now,  but  all  alive 
with  Johanniter  and  endless  soldiers,  an  'e"tappe  commandant/ 
'gewiinclete'   carried   through   the  streets,   etc.      The  hotel   at 
which   I   dined   last   night  was   crowded,   no   room  to  be   had 
there.     I  had  an  introduction  to  one  '  Wassenborn '  next  door,  but 
a  baroness  had  'bestellt'  the  room.     Madame  kindly  sent  me 
with  her  girl  to  her  sister  named  Philippi,  whose  husband  keeps 
a  restauration  chiefly  in  beer  and  tobacco,  and  I  engaged  a  room 
looking  very  like  bugs.      My  friend  here,  Mr.  Bushnan,  relieved 
me  of  this,  and  sent  for  my  luggage  and  established  me  here 
where  I  am.    .    .    .     The  railway  authorities  have  lent  a  large 
piece  of  land  near  the  station,  on  which  a  builder  of  the  town 
has  undertaken  to  erect  a  large  shed  to  receive  the  stores  without 
delay.      Fourgons  are  to  arrive  at  once  from  Arlon,  and  here 
are  to  be  the  new  headquarters,  from  which  Remilly,  a  branch 
depot,  and  other  places  will  be  supplied.     I  expect  to  find  things 
very  rough  at  Remilly,  and  still  more  in  its  vicinity.    .    .    . 
The  room  in  which  I  am  writing  is  exactly  opposite  the  heights 
on   which   the   French   guns  were  posted ;    a  chassep6t  bullet 
pierced  its  shutter  and  made  a  mark  on  a  piece  of  furniture. 
There  it  is  to  tell  the  tale.     When  I  have  finished  this  I  am 
going  to  walk  round  the  French  position.    News  came  yesterday, 
'affiched'  at  the  railway  station,  of  the  capitulation  of  Strass- 
burg.      I  wish  that  Metz  would  do  the  same,  but  on  the  con- 
trary the  Prussians  lost  a  good  many  from  a  sortie,  both  killed 
and  taken  prisoners,  and  a  lot  of  wounded  came  into  this  town. 
The  French  took  eight  waggons  filled  with  provisions.     In  con- 
sequence it  is  considered  that  the  villages  round  Metz  are  likely 
to  treat  ill  any  whom  they  may  recognise  as  strangers,  and  this 
makes  my  good  friend  Bushnan  a  little  anxious  about  letting 
me  go.     I  have  no  anxiety  myself  about  it,  and  only,  as  you 
may  suppose,  grumble   at  being  idle.      It  certainly  was  most 
unfortunate  that  I  missed  having  the  charge  of  the  All  Saints 
Sisters.      That   was   exactly  my  work.      Then  one  could  have 
chatted  with  and  read  to  the  poor  wounded  men  all  day  long, 
whereas  now  I  have  to  wait  for  jobs.     I  feel  as  if  I  had  no 


264  THE   FRANCO-PRUSSIAN    WAR  1870 

right  to  be,  as  it  were,  enjoying  myself  and  "  seeing  life  "  while 
my  brethren  are  doing  the  parish  work.  However  I  am  quite 
sure  that  it  is  not  my  fault,  nor,  as  far  as  I  can  see,  the  fault 
of  any  one.  I  am  come  just  at  the  end  of  one  set  of  things 
and  the  beginning  of  another.  I  expect  that  Miss  Goodman 
will  have  the  command  of  a  hospital  here  which  is  to  be  given 
over  to  us  by  the .  Dutch  and  Belgians,  and  then  I  shall  be  more 
in  my  element,  unless  indeed,  I  am  at  Remilly.  ...  I  am 
longing  to  hear  from  you  again,  especially  as  you  may  suppose 
I  want  a  full  account  of  Sunday.  Michaelmas  Day  was  spent 
by  me  mostly  in  travelling,  but  I  find  a  little  sermon  here  in 
my  bedroom  in  a  picture  of  an  angel  carrying  a  child,  a  photo- 
graph set  in  needlework,  with  the  inscription,  "Habe  Acht  auf 
deinen  Engel  und  hore  seine  Stimme." 

W.  J.  B.  TO  HIS  WIFE. 

HOTEL  GUEPRATTE,  Oct.  1,  1870. 

.  .  .  Things  move  on  so  rapidly  that  it  is  hard  even  after 
only  one  day  to  remember  just  where  I  left  off.  Anyhow,  I 
had  brought  myself  to  Saarbriicken.  It  seemed  as  if  there  was 
nothing  for  me  to  do  here  at  present,  for  the  '  fourgons '  had 
not  arrived,  and  until  then  we  could  only  sit  still,  or  make 
arrangements  for  their  reception.  They  had  left  Arlon  on 
Wednesday,  only  sixty  miles  distant,  and  we  wondered  what 
could  have  hindered  them.  Of  this  more  anon.  Mr.  Bushnan 
recommended  me  to  hunt  up  the  field  of  Saarbriicken,  where 
the  French  suffered  their  first  defeat,  and  Spicheren,  where 
they  were  completely  driven  back.  This  according  I  did.  The 
river  Saar,  swift  and  deep,  winds  through  the  meadows,  now 
being  mown,  full  of  herbage  and  wild  flowers ;  and  so  far  as  I 
could  find  there  is  no  ferry  or  bridge  except  here,  where  the  two 
bridges  give  the  name  to  the  town.  The  speciality  of  the  Saar 
seems  to  be  its  power  of  naming  places.  Besides  Saarbriicken, 
there  is  Saarlouis,  Saarguemines,  Saarables,  Saarbouy,  and  many 
more.  You  remember  the  position  of  Saarbriicken,  in  a  valley 
between  two  ranges  of  hills.  The  Prussian  frontier  extends 
irregularly  beyond  the  Saar.  Saarbriicken  itself  is  not  more 
than  two  miles  from  the  French  frontier.  Spicheren  actually 
is  within  it.  I  mounted,  therefore,  the  ridge  which  is  W.  of 


i8yo  BATTLE   OF   SPICHEREN  265 

the  Saar,  and  soon  found  myself  among  the  traces  of  a  battle- 
field. There  soldiers  were  wandering  about,  one  of  whom,  a 
"  Krankentrager,"  joined  himself  to  me,  and  lionised  me  every- 
where for  a  couple  of  hours.  From  him  I  got  hold  of  the  whole 
idea  of  the  battle.  The  French  posted  their  cannon  first  immedi- 
ately over  Saarbriicken,  i.e.  a  quarter  of  a  mile  a  top  of  it  (you 
remember  that  the  river  divides  it  from.  St.  Johann),  the 
Prussians  theirs  on  the  heights  over  St.  Johann.  When  the 
French  first  approached  and  had  their  guns  in  position,  there 
were  only  500  Prussians  in  the  place.  The  French  delayed 
the  attack  for  three  days,  in  which  time  all  the  troops  that 
could  be  collected  from  Baden,  Wurtemberg,  etc.,  and  Prussia 
itself,  came  down  by  the  railroad,  for  strange  to  say,  though 
the  French  bombarded  the  railway  station,  not  however 
damaging  it,  they  did  not  do  the  obviously  reasonable  thing, 
viz.  to  cut  the  line.  When  the  Germans  had  strength  enough 
they  on  their  part  attacked  the  French,  and  drove  them  back 
over  a  riant  valley,  broad  and  well  cropped,  in  the  midst 
of  heavy  rain,  to  a  tremendously  strong  position,  half  a  mile 
in  the  rear.  It  is  on  the  top  of  a  very  steep  hiD,  a  grind 
even  for  me,  with  one  rough  'pave'  or  'chaussee,'  and  a  couple 
of  watercourses.  Eight  horses  were  required  for  each  cannon 
to  tug  them  up  the  hill.  This  hill  was  roughly  escarped,  and 
all  along  the  ridge  a  little  ditch  was  cut,  in  which  the  French 
riflemen  were  sheltered  as  they  fired  on  the  Prussians  who 
climbed  up  the  sides.  At  the  top  is  a  wood,  another  great 
advantage  to  the  French,  who  found  their  shelter  behind  the 
trees.  Four  times  they  drove  back  the  Prussians  but  the  fifth 
charge  settled  them.  Of  course  efforts  were  made,  not  in  front 
only  but  round  the  sides,  and  it  was  one  of  these  side  attacks 
which  at  length  succeeded.  I  suppose  that  it  would  be  im- 
possible for  any  army  to  drive  out  such  soldiers  as  the  French, 
so  strongly  intrenched,  with  only  a  front  attack.  Then  in  two 
hours  the  whole  of  the  Prussian  artillery,  300  pieces,  were 
dragged  down  and  up,  and  the  French  defeat  was  complete. 
I  believe  that  more  French  than  Germans  were  engaged,  100,000 
to  180,000,  but  of  this  I  am  not  sure.  The  view  from  the 
Spicheren  heights  is  most  lovely,  over  the  valley,  the  town, 
and  the  river  to  the  heights  on  the  other  side.  The  battle- 
field has  more  relics  of  the  tight  than  I  saw  at  Sedan.  My  friend 


266  THE    FRANCO-PRUSSIAN   WAR  1870 

the  soldier  picked  up  one  thing  after  another,  and  said  simply 
"  Deutsch,  Franzosisch,"  and  then  threw  it  away.  I  have  become 
quite  learned  in  cartridges.  The  German  had  paper,  the  French 
cardboard  boxes;  also  the  French  use  long  'meches/  the 
German  short,  etc.  There  were  little  boxes  full  still  of  grease 
for  boots,  knapsacks,  innumerable  cartridge  boxes,  leather  belts, 
tin  cooking  pots,  tin  tubes  which  they  stick  on  wooden  handles 
when  they  want  to  roast  anything,  and  thrust  them  into  the 
fire, — braces,  bits  of  letters,  newspaper  fragments,  cooking 
places,  flasks  of  leather,  all  sorts  of  debris.  The  trees  were 
splintered  and  cut  to  pieces.  Here  and  there  a  bullet  was 
visible  still  sticking  in  the  trees.  It  was  a  strange  feeling  to 
wander  in  the  little  thicket  filled  with  such  speaking  relics, 
and  think  what  was  going  on  there  so  few  weeks  since — the 
anxiety,  and  the  fierce  passions,  the  disappointment,  and  the 
joy  of  victory.  As  I  said,  it  was  steep  climbing  even  for  me, 
unencumbered  as  I  was,  and  without  an  enemy  firing  down 
upon  me.  One  may  imagine  what  it  cost  the  Germans.  The 
field  is  dotted  about  with  burying  places, — here  30,  there 
perhaps  47,  and  so  on.  Near  the  town  there  is  a  large  grave 
where  374  lie  together,  among  them  an  uncle  and  nephew,  one 
a  general,  the  other  in  the  Grenadier  Guards,  name  Von  Francois. 
This  large  grave  has  a  good  number  of  crosses  upon  it.  Those 
in  the  fields  are  merely  mounds  hedged  round  with  the  dry 
bushes  which  the  Prussians  had  previously  cut  down  for  their 
bivouac — or,  as  they  say — bivac.  On  the  descent  which  leads 
to  the  village  about  half-way  down  there  is  a  pretty  knoll 
of  trees  with  a  Crucifix  not  the  least  injured  by  the  bullets. 
There  was  something  there  to  make  one  meditate  mourn- 
fully. 

The  poor  horses  were  all  carted  together  to  a  long  grave 
near  to  the  town.  My  friendly  soldier  brought  me  back 
safely  into  the  town,  after  having  cut  out  two  or  three 
bullets  from  the  trees  that  I  might  carry  them  home  as  relics. 
I  picked  up  two  or  three  more  things  which  I  thought  the 
children  might  care  to  have.  I  might  have  filled  a  waggon 
if  I  had  cared  to  do  so.  ...  Now,  I  believe,  I  shall  have 
some  regular  work.  I  am  to  be  general  store-keeper,  account 
keeper,  over-looking  kitchen  arrangements,  etc.  One  of  the 
London  military  commissionaires,  of  whom  we  have  four,  is 


1870  A   DIFFICULT  JOURNEY  267 

to     be     my    man.      Dr.    ,    a    German    doctor    of   much 

experience  who  has  been  for  years  resident  in  London,  and 
is  practically  an  Englishman ;  a  very  pleasing,  though  rough 
and  ugly  Scotch  Episcopalian  from  Aberdeen;  a  couple  more 

doctors,  Miss  ,  and  some  Sisters,  will  form  our  staff.  .  .  . 

Remilly,  about  forty  miles  hence,  is  a  nasty  place.  There 
are  two  Englishmen  just  arrived,  very  ill  with  dysentery, 
from  R.  The  account  they  give  of  the  place  is  sickening. 
It  is  the  main  depot  for  the  villages  round,  which  are  crammed 
with  sick  and  wounded  from  Metz.  We  are  going  to  establish  a 
depot  there  also.  The  difficulties  of  getting  to  work  are  really 
very  great  (1)  There  is  the  jealousy  of  the  Johanniter, 
which  now  seems  fairly  removed;  (2)  the  ignorance  of  the 
German  authorities  as  to  the  nature  of  the  English  work; 
(3)  the  difficulty  of  carrying  the  bulky  stores  from  place  to 
place.  The  trains  are  uncertain.  Long  '  convois '  of  provisions, 
etc.,  are  always  arriving  for  military  objects,  and  the  passenger 
trains  have  to  wait  for  them.  Horses  are  very  dear  and 
hard  to  get,  and  apt  to  break  down  when  you  have  got  them. 
The  younger  Bushnan  started  from  Arlon  on  Wednesday 
evening  with  seven  fourgons.  I  was  to  have  gone  with  them, 
but  Mr.  Capel  strongly  advised  me  to  go  by  train.  It  was 
most  fortunate  that  I  did  so,  for  only  this  morning  (Saturday) 
did  they  come  into  Saarbrucken,  having  taken  seventy  hours 
to  haul  sixty  miles.  One  horse  was  paralysed — three  others 
came  to  grief — a  man  from  whom  they  had  hired  horses  stopped 
in  the  middle  of  the  road,  refusing  to  go  further,  and  demanded 
to  be  paid  for  the  whole  journey.  When  they  refused  to 
pay,  he  tried  to  take  their  harness,  then  brought  a  body 
of  peasants  to  attack  them.  They  were  literally  forced  to 
fight  with  their  fists,  i.e.  the  drivers,  Bushnan,  an  English 
groom  on  one  side,  and  the  peasants  on  the  other.  The  peasants 
outnumbered  them,  and  took  various  of  their  things.  And 
finally  entering  Saarbrucken  the  soldiers  stopped  them,  would 
not  believe  they  were  not  French,  took  all  their  hay  and 
straw,  wanted  to  steal  their  wine,  and  not  without  bribes 
permitted  them  to  proceed.  The  fact  is,  we  are  in  a  false 
position.  We  are  not  understood.  We  are,  as  it  were,  forcing 
our  benevolences  on  people  who  return  our  kindness  by  thinking 
us  officious  or  fools  or  interested.  It  will  be  some  time  before 


268  THE   FRANCO-PRUSSIAN   WAR  1870 

things  go  straight.  Meanwhile  there  is  nothing  for  it  but 
patience  and  good  temper.  .  .  . 

W.  J.  B.  TO  HIS  WIFE. 

SAARBB.UCKEX,  Oct.  3,  1870. 

...  I  wrote  a  long  letter  on  Saturday,  giving  you  while  I  had 
it  fresh  in  my  mind  the  history  of  that  first  battle  which  practi- 
cally settled  the  whole  matter  of  the  war.  Since  then  I  have 
heard  various  details.  It  seems  that  the  Germans,  though  only 
500  men  appeared  in  Saarbriicken,  had  filled  the  woods  with 
soldiers  who  were  ready  to  pounce  on  the  French  if  they  had 
attempted  to  advance.  It  does  not  appear,  however,  that  the 
French  knew  this.  The  French  occupied  the  railway  station,  and 
did  not  cut  the  line,  because  they  meant  to  use  it  to  enter 
Germany.  This  turned  out  very  badly  for  them. 

This  place  is  full  of  English — a  motley  lot — an  odd  '  galere ' 
indeed  for  me  to  find  myself  in.  Various  newspaper  correspond- 
ents, regular  old  hands,  who  have  been  for  similar  tours  in  the 
Crimea,  America,  etc.,  describers  of  Atlantic  cables,  Great  Exhibi- 
tions, and  opening  of  isthmus  canals;  philanthropists,  employes 
of  the  English  Society  of  all  ranks,  down  to  four  commissionaires 
with  green  uniform  and  medals — not  the  least  respectable  of  our 
party — a  couple  of  doctors,  and  now  Sisters  of  mercy.  We  are 
all  good  friends  together.  .  .  .  Last  Friday,  as  I  told  you,  I  had 
not  enough  to  do,  and  had  almost  made  up  my  mind  to  return 
home  this  week.  Now  I  seem  to  have  a  prospect  of  real  useful- 
ness and  I  shall  of  course  stay  longer.  It  came  about  in  a  funny 
way.  There  is  a  Scotch  doctor — a  demonstrator  of  anatomy  at 
Aberdeen — a  clever  fellow,  and,  as  I  accidentally  found  out,  an 
Episcopalian.  We  soon  made  friends  together,  and  he  rejoiced  in 
coming  to  my  Celebration  on  Sunday  morning,  in  spite  of  the 
much  chaffing  of .  When  I  told  him  my  intention  of  return- 
ing, he  said  that  I  should  be  most  helpful  if  I  would  take  charge 
of  the  stores  and  medicines  in  the  '  Lazareth,'  which  we  are  about 
to  occupy  in  force.  It  seems  that  there  is  always  a  prejudice 
against  doctors  taking  this  office.  .  .  .  While  I  was  considering 

this,  I  found  to  my  surprise  and  gratification  that  and  the 

commissionaires  would  be  grateful  for  a  short  service  on  each 
Sunday  morning,  and  I  believe  that  several  of  the  English  con- 


1870  WORK  AT   THE    HOSPITAL  269 

nected  with  the  Society  as  clerks  and  the  like  would  also  come. 
This  would  make  a  tidy  congregation.  Then  to  complete  all  and 

to  my  great  surprise,  yesterday  evening  at  5  P.M.  the  Sisters 

with  Mrs.  -  —  arrived  from  Sedan,  or  rather  Balon,  where  they 
had  been  at  work.  That  work  is  nearly  ended.  They  were 
delighted  when  we  met  in  the  thronged  hotel  passage,  having 
given  themselves  up  as  '  gone  coons '  when  they  left  Balon  and 
the  ministrations  of  R.P.  The  difficulty  at  present  is  to  get  them 
lodged  and  fed,  and  also  to  set  them  to  work  in  the  hospital, 
which  is  now  nursed  by  Sisters  who,  though  certainly  not  enough 
in  numbers,  have  done  their  work  splendidly.  I  believe  that 
nothing  could  have  been  better  managed  than  this  hospital — one 
of  many  in  the  town — which  we  are  now  going  to  take  into  our 
hands.  The  two  doctors  there,  a  German  from  Ems  and  a 
Dutchman  under  the  Dutch  Society  for  the  wounded,  have 
shown  great  skill  and  had  singular  success.  It  will  not  do  for 
us  to  make  any  mistakes,  nor  could  we  dispense  with  the  Sisters 
who  are  there  at  work.  You  cannot  imagine  the  thin-skinnedness 
of  the  doctors  and  sick-helpers.  I  have  learnt  a  good  deal 
about  the  Germans  since  I  have  been  here — their  great  cere- 
moniousness,  their  more  than  self-respect,  their  immense  pride. 
There  is  a  touch  of  the  Scotch  nature  in  them.  Go  to  work  the 
right  way  and  they  will  do  anything  for  you;  but  tread  on  their 
toes,  and  you  had  better  pack  up  and  go  home  at  once.  So 
that  the  getting  into  the  hospital  is  a  ticklish  business. 

Tuesday.     Since  I  wrote  the  above  I  have  again  visited  the 

field  of  Spicheren  with  two  of  the  Sisters  and  Mrs.  .   .   .   . 

We  had  another  beautiful  day,  and  we  wandered  through  the 
woods  tinged  with  autumn  colouring,  quiet  and  peaceful,  still 
filled  with  the  remains  of  that  deadly  struggle.  Some  men 
were  removing  a  body  or  filling  in  a  grave  after  its  removal. 
One  of  them  took  out  of  his  pocket  a  handful  of  bullets  of 
all  sizes  and  a  Prussian  eagle  off  an  uniform.  I  gave  him  a 
franc,  and  distributed  them  among  the  Sisters,  who  were  col- 
lecting relics  to  show  their  school  children  in  London.  But 
the  odour  of  decaying  flesh  still  hung  about  them,  and  it  was 
almost  impossible  to  wash  it  away.  We  went  on  to  the  Crucifix 
which  overlooks  the  village,  and  knelt  down  together  and  offered 
some  prayers.  Poor  Spicheren  !  it  is  a  little  dirty,  roughly 
paved  French  village,  with  however  a  hostelry  where  I  got 


270  THE   FRANCO-PRUSSIAN    WAR  1870 

some  good  wine.  How  the  country  folk  must  have  been  sur- 
prised by  the  rush  of  those  two  great  armies  !  The  two  nations 
were  afraid  to  accept  one  another's  courtesy.  Each  thought 
that  the  other  had  poisoned  their  food.  .  .  .  To-morrow  I 
shall  be  in  the  Hospital,  there  to  live  while  I  stay  here.  .  .  . 

W.  J.  B.  TO  HIS  WIFE. 

X  CASERNE,  Oct.  6,  1870. 


.  .  .  Here,  I  assure  you,  my  work  is  well  cut  out,  and  unless 
I  am  forced  by  your  next  letter  to  return  to  my  proper  and 
natural  duties,  I  feel  that  I  ought  not  to  leave  my  post.  I 
entered,  yesterday,  fairly  into  work.  I  have  the  charge  of  all  the 
eatables  and  drinkables,  all  the  'comforts,'  so  to  call  them,  of  this 
hospital.  I  apply  for  what  is  wanted  to  Mr.  Bushnan,  and  I 
give  out  things  on  the  doctor's  requisition.  I  keep  regular 
debit  and  credit  accounts,  not  of  money  but  of  things  (JVaareri), 
and  I  spend  my  day  among  my  stores.  Beyond  this  I  visit 
the  sick  and  wounded,  chat  a  little  with  them,  bring  them 
cigars  to  cheer  them,  etc.,  etc.;  and  further  I  have  services  for 
the  Sisters,  and  have  arranged  with  the  greater  part  of  the 
English  folk  here,  who  are  tolerably  numerous,  to  have  a 
service  on  Sundays.  It  took  some  days  to  put  all  this  straight, 
but  now  there  is,  I  think,  no  more  difficulty,  and  it  seems 
provoking  —  to  use  such  a  word  —  to  have  to  leave  it.  You 
can  scarcely  imagine  the  difficulty  of  getting  anything  done  — 
above  all  in  my  line.  You  must  remember  that  I  am  in  a 
position  entirely  new  to  me.  First  of  all  I  am  a  subordinate 
and  not  a  principal.  Not  as  at  home  '  monarch  of  all  I  survey,' 
but  forced  to  be  most  particular  not  even  to  seem  to  assert 
the  very  least  authority  of  any  kind  whatsoever.  If  I  were  to 
take  up  the  slightest  bit  of  ground  not  my  own,  there  would 
be  instant  confusion,  and  in  some  or  other  way  I  should  be 
snubbed.  Then  I  have  to  deal  with  a  very  strange  set  of 
people,  quite  other  than  any  who  have  hitherto  fallen  in  my 
way. 

.  .  .  Then  there  are  four  commissionaires,  good  honest 
fellows,  who  .  .  .  were  really  unhappy  because  they  had  no 
service  last  Sunday;  then  the  whole  throng  of  'freiwillige 
Kranken-pfleger  '  .  .  .  some  gentlemen,  others  clerks  and  couriers, 


1870  STOREKEEPER  271 

then  hangers-on  like or ,  then  the  correspondents  of 

the  papers.  .  .  .  Two  or  three  Germans  hook  on  to  us  at  dinner. 
You  may  imagine  what  a  strange  life  it  is,  and  how  much  self- 
control  it  requires  to  hold  one's  own  and  keep  on  good  friendly 
terms  with  them  all.  .  .  .  All  this,  as  you  may  suppose,  is  not 
to  my  taste,  though  it  is  not  bad  practice  for  my  temper  and 
disposition. 

.  .  .  We  breakfast  at  7.30.  At  8.30  we  go  to  the  hospital, 
which  is  only  five  minutes  off.  There  Dr.  Rodger  and  I  remain. 
I  have  a  room  on  the  ground  floor  just  at  the  entrance,  for- 
merly an  officer's  room,  hung  round  with  battle  pictures,  and 
within  it  a  smaller  room,  fitted  up  roughly  with  shelves. 

The  Dutch  were  here  before  us,  and  they  have  left  us  some  of 
their  stores.  Our  stores  come  in  by  degrees,  and  I  stow  them 
away  with  the  help  of  one  of  the  commissionaires,  a  good 
fellow  enough — Irish,  named  Connell.  He  thinks  poorly  of  the 
foreigners  and  their  ways,  and  compares  the  somewhat  slipshod 
arrangements  of  this  suddenly-created  hospital  with  the  order 
and  discipline  of  a  regular  English  one.  Then  all  the  morning 
the  German  Sisters  come  in  for  cushions,  bandages,  brandy,  etc. 
We  lost  one  poor  fellow  yesterday  from  secondary  haemorrhage, 
after  an  amputation  performed  by  the  Dutch  doctors  before  they 
left  the  place.  At  the  moment  we  had  no  brandy  in  store.  I 
rushed  out  and  bought  some  in  two  minutes,  but  it  was  too  late. 
He  died. 

A  sentry  with  bright  steel  bayonet  and  gun  barrel  marches  up 
and  down  before  my  window.  Nevertheless  a  good  many  stray 
visitors  flock  in,  and  as  I  come  first,  it  falls  to  my  lot  to  entertain 
them.  A  Dutch  prediger  rejoicing  in  the  name  of  Cohen  Stuart 
paid  me  a  long  visit  this  morning. 

I  got  hold  of  a  couple  of  strong  lasses  and  made  them  dust 
and  wash  these  two  rooms,  and  clear  out  the  heap  of  useless 
rubbish — furniture  and  old  stores — which  littered  the  floor,  and 
I  am  now  fairly  tidy.  But  the  hospital  itself  is  in  a  bad 
condition  and  the  doctor  is  sadly  afraid  that  pyaemia  may  set 
in.  The  people  whom  he  employed  to  whitewash  crawl  about 
and  get  nothing  done.  The  stores  are  very  slow  in  coming  in. 
I  feel,  if  only  I  had  a  week  of  command,  that  I  could  put  the 
whole  thing  into  real  trim — and  by  degrees,  as  far  as  the  stores 
are  concerned,  I  am  getting  pretty  much  my  own  way,  and 


272  THE   FRANCO-PRUSSIAN   WAR  1870 

setting  them  to  rights.  But  of  course  my  present  ignorance 
of  what  is  necessary  stands  in  my  way,  and  I  find  out  only 
by  degrees  the  need  of  this  or  that.  ...  As  I  told  you,  I 
do  not  care  one  straw  where  I  am  posted,  I  want  only  to  be 
of  use  to  those  who  are  suffering  in  this  hideous  war,  with 
the  'arriere  penseV  of  helping  the  English  folks  to  keep  religion 
within  their  souls.  ...  I  found  a  fine  well  built  man  to-day, 
a  French  officer,  who  is  suffering  terribly  from  a  wound  in  foot. 
He  has  been  two  months  in  bed.  I  took  him  a  great  pot  of 
calf's-foot  jelly.  He  has  a  German  Sister  to  nurse  him,  and 
neither  can  speak  a  word  of  the  other's  language.  Our  Eng- 
lish Sisters  all  speak  French,  but  the  fear  of  exciting  jealousy 
is  such  that  we  do  not  dare  to  give  the  work  of  nursing  him 
to  them. 

You  will  be  glad  to  hear  that  the  best  beer  in  Saarbriicken 
is  sold  just  across  the  road.  I  have  lodged  the  Sisters  in  the 
Restauration  where  it  is  to  be  found.  ...  I  am  surrounded 
by  carbolic  acid  and  chloride  of  lime,  and  the  smell  of  them, 
fortunately  healthy,  is  never  out  of  my  nose. 

4.15.  I  have  just  returned  from  visiting  my  friend  the 
French  officer.  His  wife  is  with  him,  very  lady-like  and 
pleasant.  He  was  ten  years  at  Saumur  in  the  Cavalry  barracks, 
and  we  had  a  joke  about  the  windmills.  He  knows  all  the 
Loire  country  and  ('comme  on  se  retrouve')  our  old  friend, 

M. .  I  took  him  a  handful  of  cigars.  They  both  agreed 

that  the  war  was  causeless  and  unjust.  .  .  . 


W.  J.  B.  TO  HIS  WIFE. 

UHLANEN  CASERNE,  Oct.  7,  1870. 

.  .  .  Another  day  has  nearly  passed  of  this  new  and 
strange  life  of  mine.  There  is  not  much  variety,  yet  some- 
how or  other  it  is  not  devoid  of  a  certain  kind  of  interest. 
Very  gradually  I  am  beginning  to  make  acquaintance  with  the 

wounded.     I  was  afraid  to  put  myself  forward  at  first,  for 

is  inclined  to  be  snappish,  and  I  do  not  want  to  be  in  the 
wrong.  Of  course  I  have  no  absolute  right  to  be  anywhere 
but  in  my  pantry.  The  hospital  is  a  huge  barrack,  full  of 
rooms  of  all  sizes.  Some  have  eight  beds,  others  one  only. 


1870  HOSPITAL   ROUTINE  273 

The    officers   are,    as   far  as  possible,    placed  in    single    rooms, 
and  I  have  made  acquaintance  with  them — one,  M.  le  Capitaine 
Sacquet,    of  whom   I   spoke   to   you  yesterday   whose   wife,  a 
very  pleasing  woman,  looks  after  him,  and  two  others,  one  from 
'les  Basses  Pyrenees,'  the  other  my  friend  from  Rennes,  quite 
a  young  fellow,  sous-lieutenant.      The  B.   P.  officer  had   three 
brothers  in   the   Crimea— one    lost   his    leg.    ...    I   ventured 
to   visit   them   all    (men)   to-day,    and   fine   fellows   they  were, 
very   courteous    and   manly.      They   seem   pleased  to  see  me, 
and  I  shall  now  try  to  visit  them  daily.  .  .   .  Did   I  mention 
to  you  that  we  have  70  patients  and  probably  soon  120  will 
be    here.      To-day    has    been    a    very    serious    day.      Several 
operations  were  performed,  and  the  doctors  were  very  anxious. 
However,    D.G.,    so   far   all   has   gone   well.      And  now  the 
white-washing   is   going   on   in   good   earnest.     Also  stores  are 
coming    in.      Yet    no    port    wine     has    been    sent,    and    our 
telegraph  to  England  has  not   been   responded   to.     The   hitch 
is  with  those  wretched  Luxemburgers,  who  are  a  bad,  selfish  lot. 
I   am   very   sorry   that   we   have   guaranteed   their  neutrality. 
Everything  goes  on  well  through  Belgium  and  through  Prussia. 
But   the   railway   necessarily  passes    through   Luxemburg,   and 
they  keep  the  goods  at  the  custom  houses,  though  the  packages 
are   all   duly   marked   with   Red   Cross.     My   stores  consist  of 
linen  of  all  sorts,  beer,  wine,    brandy,  jelly,  olive   oil,  extracts 
of   meat,    refreshing    drinks,    filters,    slop-pails,    linseed    meal, 
candles,    soap,  etc.,    etc.      By    the    help   of  my    Commissioner 
Connell  all  is  in  capital  order.      I  have  a  note  book  in  which 
I   write  down   all   that   comes   in   and   goes   out.     E.g.   knock 
comes.      "Herein."      A   gentle-voiced   German   Sister   appears. 
"  Caplan,    der    Doctor    hat    mich    geschickt    zu    fragen   ob  Sie 
haben,"   this    or   that.     To    which    I   generally    reply,  "  Meine 
Schwester,  wir  werden  sehen."     Probably  Cognac  is  the  object 
of  her  search.      "  Schwester,  haben   Sie  Ihren  Propfenzieher  1 " 
She   always   has   it   ready   in   her   pocket,  and  I  make  a  joke 
about  its  being  her  "Breviar,"  at  which  she  laughs  heartily  and 
carries  off  her  prize.     Then  perhaps  Mrs.  -    —  comes  in,  looking 
worn  out  and  pale.     She  wants  pillows,  sheets,  soap,  candles,  red 
wine,  also  begs  for  a  slop-pail.    I  produce  the  articles,  open  a 
bottle  of  beer,  pull  out  my  private  stock  of  biscuits,  and  persuade 
her  to  take  something.     Our  worst  want  now  is  candlesticks. 

s 


274  THE    FRANCO-PRUSSIAN   WAR  1870 

The  town  is  bi'osiered,  and  we  must  wait  till  some  can  be  made. 
A  bottle  with  a  candle  stuck  in  it  is  our  only  resource.  .  .  . 

I  cannot  help  smiling  sometimes  at  myself  and  my  work, 
yet  really  I  think  that  there  is  some  satisfaction  in  finding  that  I 
can  do  what  I  am  told  to  do.  Sometimes  I  have  feared  that 
my  masterful  nature  had  no  humility  in  it.  But  I  am  nearly 
sure  that  want  of  humility  is  not  my  special  fault. 

You  cannot  imagine  the  loveliness  of  the  weather  or  the  beauty 
of  the  situation  of  Saarbriicken.  Each  night  the  bright  moon 
shines  out  of  the  bluest  of  skies,  and  is  reflected  in  the  Saar. 
In  the  morning  it  is  coolish,  and  rather  dull  for  an  hour  or  so. 
Then  the  sun  comes  out,  and  the  day  is  clear  and  warm,  not  hot. 

.  .  .  You  would  be  amused  at  our  hotel  dinner  at  seven.  .  .  . 
The  room  which  is  small  is  crammed  with  Johanniter  in  their 
splendid  uniform,  with  Maltese  cross  on  their  breast  and  em- 
broidered on  their  coat,  Prussian  officers,  sometimes  a  French 
officer  on  parole,  English  waifs  and  strays,  occasionally  dis- 
tinguished men  whom  we  gradually  get  to  know,  as  Capt.  Hozier 
who  is  sent  out  by  Government  to  Prussian  headquarters. 
There  is,  as  you  may  suppose,  a  mighty  jabber.  Dr.  Rodger, 
my  Scotch  friend,  and  I,  retire  in  good  time,  but  the  rest  of  the 
party  keep  the  ball  going  till  a  latish  hour.  .  .  . 

I  am  in  some  difficulty  about  Sunday.  They  all  profess 
to  wish  for  a  service,  and  I  have  made  up  my  mind  when  and 
how  to  have  it,  i.e.  in  our  sitting  room  for  matins,  when  the 
doctor  has  cleared  out,  and  H.C.  in  the  Sisters'  room  at  seven  or 
eight. 

.  .  .  But  whether  they  will  come  to  matins — indeed  whether 
without  a  real  effort  they  can  come — is  another  question.  You 
see  in  what  a  quaint  position  I  am.  Every  one  is  very  civil — I 
mean  of  the  English  folk — but  I  feel  that,  with  the  best  in- 
tentions on  both  sides,  our  lines  of  thought  and  objects  are  as 
different  as  possible,  and  I  dread  boring  them.  .  .  .  (Enter 

Mrs. ,  "0  Mr.  Butler  I  am  so  glad  that  you  are  still  here. 

Have  you  any  extract  of  meat  ? "  "  Alas  !  no,  none  has  been 
sent ! "  "  What  shall  I  do  ?  One  of  my  poor  patients  is  very 
weak,  etc.,  etc."  Then  I  remember  my  private  stock,  and  rush 
off  and  fetch  my  flesh  pot.  "  Thank  you,  doctor,"  she  replies, 
"  I  am  much  obliged.") 

Until  to-day  I  have  had  no  chair  in  which  to  sit,  simply  a 


1870  RECALLED   TO   WANTAGE  275 

four-legged  backless  stool.  I  could  stand  it  no  longer,  and  went 
out  and  bought  myself  a  cane  chair  for  7fr.  It  is  to  be  Connell's 
perquisite  when  I  go.  You  would  laugh  to  see  the  said  Connell 
with  the  German  soldiers  and  other  folk.  He  talks  to  them  in 
simple  plain  Hibernian  English,  despises  them  for  their  ignorance, 
considers  them  all  to  be  a  pack  of  rogues,  though  I  suppose 
honester  people  could  scarcely  be  found,  and  never  for  a  moment 
has  his  eyes  off  the  plunder,  unless  I  am  there  to  guard  it.  He 
is  a  capital  fellow,  and  shrinks  from  no  amount  of  work.  He 
lives  in  the  Hospital  and  receives  his  'rations.'  This  morning 
they  doled  him  out  a  basin  of  coffee,  as  he  said,  as  if  he  was  a 
beggarman.  There  was  some  nasty  stuff  at  bottom.  I  sent  for 
*  Herr  Inspector'  and  we  soon  had  an  [?  explanation]  the  result  of 
which  was  such  a  dinner  as  Connell  had  never  put  into  his  stomach 
before,  finishing  up,  as  he  expressed  it,  with  jam  for  dessert. 

W.  J.  B.  TO  HIS  WIFE. 

UHLANEN  CASERNE,  Oct.  9,  1870. 

Your  letter  of  yesterday  reached  me  at  dinner  time,  and  you 
may  suppose  I  had  not  much  appetite  after  reading  it.  I  care- 
fully considered — wakeful  as  I  am  for  half  the  night — what 
must  be  my  duty ;  and  I  trust  that  the  telegraphic  message 
which  I  despatched  will  make  you  easy  as  to  my  speedy  return. 
I  saw  that  I  could  not  be  in  England  for  Sunday,  and  therefore 
I  thought  it  best  to  give  a  service  here,  and  a  Celebration  to 
the  Sisters,  and  then  to  start  to-morrow,  Sunday  evening.  .  .  . 
I  am  just  becoming  intimate  with  the  French  officers, — such 
good  pleasant  men  as  they  are !  Poor  Captain  Sacquet  and 
his  wife  told  me  all  their  troubles  to-day,  how  he  had  lost 
everything,  dquipement,  property,  etc.,  how  terribly  expensive 
his  journeys  had  been,  and  what  it  would  still  cost  to  make 
his  way  to  Valenciennes.  I  prevailed  on  him — 'en  titre  d'un 
pret' — to  accept  100  francs,  and  I  never  felt  happier  than 
when  I  put  it  into  his  hands.  We  had  much  talk  about  the 
battle  of  Spicheren.  His  vis-a-vis  told  me  how  he  happened 
to  be  wounded.  He  and  seven  other  officers,  finding  the 
ammunition  running  short,  and  perceiving  the  importance  of 
holding  a  certain  point  for  a  time,  took  muskets  and  went 
round  for  all  the  cartridges  they  could  find.  Then  they  lay 


276  THE   FRANCO-PRUSSIAN   WAR  1870 

on  the  ground  and  fired  at  the  advancing  Prussians.  One  of 
his  brother  officers  exhausted  his  stock  of  cartridges  and  then 
rested  his  head  on  his  hand.  This  was  enough  for  the  Prussian 
riflemen.  A  ball  broke  his  arm  and  ran  round  into  his  chest. 
My  friend  raised  himself  to  pick  up  his  wounded  comrade  and 
was  hit  on  the  thigh.  He  is  the  man  from  Beam;  name,  Hittos. 
We  exchanged  cards,  etc.1 

To-day  is  our  first  day  of  rain.  It  is  however  very  warm, 
though  not  sultry.  We  are  now  beginning  to  get  things  into 
order,  and  I  really  believe  that  in  a  few  more  days  I  should 
find  a  great  deal  of  interesting  work.  As  it  is,  I  am  kept  hard 
at  my  stores  all  day,  and  you  would  be  amused  at  my  new 
habits  of  business  and  regularity.  You  must  not  imagine  that 
I  had  the  least  idea  of  doing  nothing  except  store-keeping. 
I  only  meant  it  to  be  a  pied-ct-terre,  and,  in  fact,  in  a  few 
days  I  have  no  doubt  that  I  should  have  had  the  offer  of  some 

really    important    post.      Touching   ,    and    the    difference 

between  him  and  me,  the  real  fact  is  that  he  has  had  so  much 
more  detail  work  than  I,  and  his  accounts  of  the  men's  suffer- 
ings are  likely  to  be  right  enough.  I  only  described  what 
I  actually  saw  in  my  rapid  walks  through  the  various  hospitals. 
Here  of  course  it  is  otherwise,  and  here  I  am  in  a  position 
to  appreciate  more  closely  what  the  results  of  wounds  are. 
Nevertheless  I  still  maintain — and  the  doctors  corroborate  my 
views — that  there  is  not,  on  the  whole,  as  much  suffering  as 
might  be  expected.  The  men  are  wounded  when  mostly  in  a 
strong  and  healthy  condition,  and  better  able  to  endure.  And 
one  of  our  English  nurses  told  me  that  in  hospitals  in  London 
the  people  in  surgical  wards  are  more  cheerful  than  those  in 
medical. 

We  sent  off  six  fourgons  full  of  food  and  medicine  to  Remilly 
this  morning,  and  we  expect  an  immense  supply  immediately 
from  Ostend.  Oh  dear,  I  shall  have  to  cross  by  that  way,  the 
Calais  boats  have  at  length  come  to  an  end.  People  are  very 
kind  and  express  all  sorts  of  regrets  at  my  departure,  especially 
my  '  orderly '  Connell,  to  whom  I  have  bequeathed  my  chair. 

lrThe  friendship  with  Captain  Sacquet  was  kept  up  by  letter  for 
many  years,  and  in  1874  a  visit  was  paid  to  Bourbonne-les-Bains, 
where  the  Captain  was  trying,  not  very  successfully,  to  get  his 
wound  thoroughly  cured. 


1870  A  TEMPTING   OFFER  277 

W.  J.  B.  TO  KEV.  CANON  LIDDON. 

WANTAGE  VICARAGE,  Oct.  29,  1870. 

.  .  .  You  heard  perhaps  that  I  had  been  in  France  and 
Germany  lending  a  very  feeble  hand  to  help  a  little  in  the 
hospitals,  etc.,  near  Sedan  and  at  Saarbriicken.  I  was  called  back, 
to  my  great  regret,  by  the  dangerous  illness  of  Weaver.1  He 
is,  D.G.,  quite  recovering.  I  saw,  however,  enough  to  realise 
more  than  otherwise  would  have  been  possible  of  the  sorrow 
and  suffering  which  spring  from  war,  and  to  be  converted  into 
an  upholder  of  peace  at  almost  any  price. 

MRS.  BUTLER  TO  HER  DAUGHTER. 

WANTAGE  VICARAGE,  Nov  16  [1870]. 

.  .  .  Imagine  a  telegram  at  2  P.M.  yesterday  from  Colonel 
Loyd  Lindsay  to  your  father  with  an  urgent  request  for  him 
to  go  out  to  Germany  and  look  after  the  wants  of  the  300,000 
French  prisoners  of  war  there,  followed  up  this  morning  by  a 
long  letter  with  many  most  interesting  enclosures  from  German 
people  (of  highest  class)  praying  the  Society  to  help  at  once 
to  keep  these  unhappy  men  and  officers  from  perishing  by  cold 
and  want.  The  Government  act  most  liberally,  but  they  can- 
not get  beyond  what  are  called  necessaries  of  life  in  the  way 
of  food,  nor  give  clothes  and  comforts  and  help  in  sickness. 
The  Queen  of  Prussia  is  most  anxious  in  the  matter,  and  one 
of  the  letters  was  in  fact  written  at  her  desire.  But  it  is  as 
much  as  her  place  is  worth  to  let  Bismarck  know  of  her  ask- 
ing English  to  help  French.  He  hates  us.  So  don't  betray 
Her  Majesty!  Last  night  the  thing  seemed  impossible,  and 
your  father  wrote  a  line  to  CoL  Lindsay  to  that  effect; 
specially  till  after  Confirmation  this  day  three  weeks.  But  the 
letters  were  fearfully  constraining.  Colonel  Lindsay  would  go 
himself  (as  organiser,  etc.),  but  that  he  cannot  be  spared  from 
the  work  at  home.  He  pitches  upon  your  father  as  the  man 
for  the  case.  As  he  justly  says,  "  A  man  may  live  a  long  life 
and  never  have  such  a  chance  again  of  serving  his  fellow 
creatures."  .  .  . 

However,  the  parochial  difficulties  were  found  to 
be  insurmountable,  and  with  deepest  regret  on  the 
Vicar's  part,  he  declined  the  post. 

1  His  senior  Curate. 


CHAPTER  IX. 
CLOSE  OF  THE  WANTAGE  LIFE. 

THE  year  1872  witnessed  the  first  break  in  his 
parochial  life.  Up  to  this  time  he  had  been 
singularly  free  from  serious  illness,  and  although 
leading  a  life  of  constant  hard  work  and  rigid  self- 
denial,  he  had  never  as  yet  broken  down.  But 
there  were  not  wanting  symptoms  of  a  change,  and 
those  who  watched  him  knew  that  his  constitution, 
however  hardy  and  vigorous  it  might  be,  could  not 
stand  the  long-continued  strain  with  impunity.  He 
was  undoubtedly  on  the  brink  of  an  illness  when 
an  accident  abruptly  put  a  stop  to  his  work.  On 
the  24th  July  he  was  thrown  out  of  his  pony  carriage 
in  Wantage,  and  received  a  serious  injury  to  the 
spine,  the  effects  of  which  he  felt  to  the  end  of 
his  life.  He  had  to  lie  on  his  back  for  six  months, 
and  the  doctors  afterwards  said  that  this  enforced 
rest  was  probably,  humanly  speaking,  the  saving 
of  his  life,  or  at  least  the  means  of  averting  a  com- 
plete break-down  of  the  nervous  system.  The  fol- 
lowing letter,  written  by  him  from  his  sick-bed,  is 
eminently  characteristic  : 


1872  ENFORCED    REST  279 

To  THE  EDITOR  OF  THE  "READING  MERCURY." 

SIR, — In  your  account  of  the  accident  which  befell  me  on 
Wednesday  last  I  am  said  "to  have  jumped,  or  been  thrown 
out"  of  the  carriage  in  which  I  was.  Permit  me  to  say  I  was 
thrown  out,  and  on  no  consideration  would  I  have  jumped  out ; 
and,  lying  here  helpless,  I  am  glad  to  have  the  opportunity  of 
doing  good  to  my  fellow-creatures  by  pointing  to  my  own  case 
as  an  advantage  of  the  former  course.  At  the  place  where  I 
fell,  a  few  pounds  more  impetus,  just  that  which  a  spring  would 
have  given,  would  have  rendered  my  injuries  very  serious,  if 
not  fatal ;  whereas  now,  by  proper  care,  and  I  need  not  add, 
by  the  mercy  of  God,  I  trust  in  no  very  long  time  to  be  able 
to  return  to  my  duties  with  "  mens  sana  in  corpore  sano." 

WANTAGE  VICARAGE,  July  27th,  1872. 

A  little  later  lie  was  moved  to  Brighton,  and 
thence  wrote  : 

W.   J.    B.   TO   MRS.   WlLKINS.1 

LEE  HOUSE,  BRIGHTON,  Oct.  16,  1872. 

MY  DEAR  CAROLINE, — If  loving  words  could  mend  one's 
bones,  I  ought,  after  your  kind  and  welcome  letter  of  this 
morning,  to  be  quite  strong  and  well.  It  gave  me  great 
pleasure  to  read  it,  and  to  hear  about  James,  and  the  children, 
and  yourself,  and  the  parish  generally. 

You  want  to  know  how  I  am  and  what  I  can  do.  I  am  very 
much  better  in  my  general  health,  but  my  back  is  not  right. 
The  doctor  here  has  discovered  that  one  of  the  joints  of  the 
spine  is  forced,  by  the  violence  of  the  blow  which  I  received 
from  the  back  of  the  carriage,  slightly  out  of  its  place.  This 
is  the  cause  of  my  not  improving;  and  unless  it  can  be  put 
right  the  consequences  will  be  serious.  He  speaks  however 
very  confidently  of  curing  me  in  about  three  months.  Mean- 
while I  have  to  lie  on  a  board  from  morning  till  night,  and  I 
assure  you  that  I  am  becoming  quite  used  to  it.  You  know 
that  I  always  was  a  lazy  man,  and  now  I  can  indulge  myself. 

lThe  daughter  and  wife  of  Wantage  tradesmen,  who  had  been 
brought  up  under  the  Vicar's  teaching,  and  for  whom  he  always 
felt  a  warm  friendship. 


280  CLOSE  OF  THE  WANTAGE  LIFE  1872- 

I  get  up  to  breakfast  with  Mrs.  Butler,  take  a  quarter  of  an 
hour's  walk  in  the  garden,  lie  on  my  board  till  luncheon  time, 
and  then  have  a  drive  for  a  couple  of  hours  (generally  along 
the  cliff  by  the  seaside),  then  to  my  board  again.  I  am  never 
allowed  to  sit,  except  at  meals ;  and  thus  I  have  to  hold  this 
paper  on  which  I  write  over  my  head,  and  write  up  instead  of 
down,  which  is  rather  tiring  work.  .  .  .  Now,  I  think,  I 
have  told  you  all.  I  need  not  say  to  you  how  much  you  are 
all  in  my  thoughts  and  prayers.  I  am  not  sorry  to  be  obliged 
to  [remember?]  that  all  real  good  work  is  the  work  of  God 
Himself,  though  He  makes  use  in  His  wisdom  of  poor  weak 
sinful  men  like  me,  and  He  can  and  will  carry  it  on  (now  that 
I  am  disabled)  by  His  own  almighty  power.  I  am  most  thankful 
to  have  such  good  [accounts?]  of  everything.  .  .  . — Your 
faithful  friend  and  pastor,  WILLIAM  BUTLER. 

He  returned  to  Wantage  on  January  24th,  1873, 
and  gradually  resumed  the  full  swing  of  work, 
though  he  felt  more  and  more  that  the  burden  of 
the  parish  was  overtaxing  his  strength ;  and  he 
foresaw  that  a  time  was  coming  when  it  must  be 
laid  down.  Yet  the  "  Parish  Journal "  shows  no  signs 
of  abated  vigour  or  weakened  interest.  The  classes, 
the  close  inspection  of  the  school,  the  assiduous 
visiting  of  the  parishioners,  all  went  on  as  in  the 
years  before  the  accident ;  while  the  growth  of  the 
Sisterhood  brought  with  it  greatly  increased  work 
for  its  founder  and  guide. 

W.  J.  B.  TO  REV.  CANON  LIDDON. 

WANTAGE  VICAKAGE,  May  17,  1873. 

In  the  stupidity  of  my  nature  I  had  not  perceived  that  the 
Sunday  on  which  you  kindly  wish  me  to  preach  at  St.  Paul's 
is  the  last  Sunday  in  Advent.  Would  it  be  possible  to  commute 
it?  The  second  or  third  Sunday  would  suit  me  very  well. 
But  I  do  not  like,  if  it  can  be  avoided,  to  omit  my  annual 


i88o  HONORARY   CANON  281 

shout  at  the  people  here  about  keeping  Christmas  rightly. 
Our  folk  need  continued  prodding  to  keep  them  up  to  the 
mark.  I  have  read  the  debate  in  Convocation  on  confession, 
and  I  think  that  it  might  have  been  worse.  The  article  in 
the  Times  is  characteristically  unfair,  and  does  not  honestly 
represent  what  took  place.  As  for  stopping  the  use  of  con- 
fession, that  is  impossible.  It  is  now,  like  Christianity  in 
the  early  days,  in  the  forum  and  everywhere,  and  sooner  or 
later,  the  bishops  will  be  forced  to  admit  this.  .  .  .  When 

people  like and go  to  confession,  practically  the  game  is 

won.  .  .  . 

Bishop  Mackarness  had  made  him  an  Honorary 
Canon  of  Christ  Church  in  1872,  a  preferment  which 
he  valued  very  highly,  and  on  21st  February,  1874, 
he  received  the  first  public  token  of  the  appreciation 
with  which  he  was  regarded  by  the  clergy  of  the 
diocese.  He  was  elected  Proctor  in  Convocation. 
When  asked  if  he  would  stand,  he  stipulated  that 
he  should  not  have  personally  to  canvass  any  of  his 
clerical  brethren.  The  Rev.  W.  G.  Sawyer,  Vicar  of 
Taplow,  has  given  an  account  of  the  circumstances 
of  the  election  : 

It  may  be  interesting  to  record  the  circumstances  under 
which  the  Vicar,  as  we  always  loved  to  call  him,  was  elected 
as  Proctor  to  Convocation  for  the  diocese  of  Oxford.  His 
election  was  a  cause  of  much  pleasure  to  him,  for  two  reasons, 
viz.,  because  it  opened  out  to  him  a  new  field  of  usefulness, 
and  also  because  election  to  Convocation  is  the  only  public 
way  in  which  the  clergy  of  a  diocese  can  show  their  regard 
for  one  of  their  number.  It  having  been  announced  that  Dr. 
Leighton,  Warden  of  All  Souls,  did  not  intend  to  offer  himself 
for  re-election  as  Proctor,  the  Rev.  Edward  Elton,  then  vicar 
of  Wheatley,  now  rector  of  Sherington,  wrote  to  me  as  an 
old  Wantage  curate,  asking  what  I  thought  about  Butler  being 
put  forward  as  a  candidate  for  the  vacant  Proctorship.  "  This 
step  Mr.  Elton  took,  not  as  being  an  intimate  friend  of  the 


282  CLOSE  OF  THE  WANTAGE  LIFE  1872- 

Vicar  of  Wantage,  but  under  a  deep  and  pressing  sense  of 
the  work  he  was  doing  at  Wantage."  (These  are  Mr.  Elton's 
own  words.)  The  idea  pleased  me  very  much,  and  I  felt  that 
if  we  could  elect  Butler  it  would  show  our  appreciation  of 
what  he  had  done,  and  that  it  would  be  a  great  gain  to  the 
diocese.  Mr.  Elton  and  I  talked  the  matter  over,  and  it  was 
agreed  between  us  that  I  should  write  to  a  number  of  repre- 
sentative men  in  different  parts  of  the  diocese,  asking  whether 
they  would  be  disposed  to  support  the  Vicar  of  Wantage  if 
he  was  proposed.  It  was  fully  recognised  from  the  first  that 
he  would  not  be  elected  without  a  contest ;  for  there  still 
existed  at  that  time,  what  now  seems  to  us  so  strange,  the 
idea  that  Butler  was  a  man  of  extreme  opinions,  and  that 
notwithstanding  his  great  work  at  Wantage — which  those  who 
looked  at  it  from  the  outside  could  not  understand — he  was 
not  to  be  trusted  as  an  English  Churchman.  This  is  a  very 
curious  fact.  We  soon  found  that  if  he  was  proposed,  he 
would  be  largely  supported.  Meeting  Bishop  Mackarness  I 
told  him  what  we  meant  to  do;  his  answer  was,  "then  you 
will  have  a  fight,"  to  which  I  replied,  "we  know  that,  but 
we  do  not  mind."  A  large  committee  was  formed  to  promote 
Butler's  election,  of  which  Rev.  W.  W.  Jones,  Fellow  of  St. 
John's  (now  Metropolitan  of  Capetown),  the  late  Canon 
Freeling,  Fellow  of  Merton  (who  succeeded  Butler  as  Proctor), 
and  myself,  were  the  secretaries.  Our  meetings  were  held  in 
Mr.  Jones'  rooms  at  St.  John's,  and  the  diocese  was  thoroughly 
canvassed.  We  soon  found  that  a  storm  was  rising,  and  Mr. 
Burgon,  Fellow  of  Oriel,  and  Vicar  of  St.  Mary's,  Oxford  (after- 
wards Dean  of  Chichester),  was  proposed  as  a  candidate  in 
opposition  to  Butler.  Many  hard  things  were  said,  and  there 
was  considerable  excitement  in  the  diocese.  On  the  morning 
of  the  election  Mr.  Burgon's  committee  made  the  proposal 
that  both  candidates  should  be  withdrawn,  and  that  all  should 
unite  in  supporting  Rev.  A.  P.  Purey  Gust,  Vicar  of  St.  Mary's, 
Reading  (now  Dean  of  York).  Some  of  us  felt  that  hard 
and  unfair  things  had  been  said  about  Butler,  and  we  refused 
to  withdraw  his  name.  There  was  a  very  large  meeting  of 
the  clergy  of  the  diocese  in  the  Sheldonian  Theatre  at  Oxford 
on  the  day  of  the  election.  Canon  Charles  Lloyd  was  re-elected 
unanimously,  and  Butler  was  proposed  by  Mr.  Ridley,  Rector  of 


i88o  PROCTOR   IN    CONVOCATION  283 

Hambledon,  and  seconded  by  Mr.  Clutterbuck,  Vicar  of  Long 
Wittenham.  He  was  elected  by  a  very  substantial  majority. 
Mr.  Burgon  wrote  a  very  strong  and  angry  letter  to  the 
Times,  complaining  that  Butler  had  been  put  forward  in  a 
hasty  way,  and  that  the  diocese  was  taken  by  surprise ;  but 
the  letter  was  written  in  complete  ignorance  of  the  true  state 
of  things. 

It  is  interesting  to  bear  in  mind  that  Butler  had  been  only 
a  short  time  in  Convocation  when  there  was  a  great  change 
in  the  opinions  of  his  opponents.  He  very  soon  won  their 
confidence,  as  he  did  of  all  those  who  really  knew  him ;  and 
I  well  remember  his  telling  me  that  he  had  lately  met  one, 
well  known  to  both  of  us,  who  had  opposed  his  election  more 
strongly  than  perhaps  any  one  in  the  diocese,  who  said,  "So 
far  as  I  am  concerned  you  will  never  be  opposed  again,  and 
you  may  remain  Proctor  as  long  as  you  like." 

REV.  CANON  LIDDON  TO  W.  J.  B. 

CHRIST  CHURCH,  OXFORD,  February  21,  1874. 

I  was  sorry  to  miss  you  when  you  called  at  my  rooms  this 
morning.  But,  instead  of  going  out  for  a  walk,  I  went  to  the 
Sheldonian  Theatre,  and  heard  all  the  proceedings  there  this 
afternoon.1  And  the  result  gave  me  more  pleasure  than  I  can 
well  say,  alike  on  public  and  private  grounds.  As  the  schoolmen 
would  say,  it  was,  both  positively  and  negatively,  good.  .  .  . 
And  positively,  because,  not  to  add  to  all  that  was  said  in  the 
theatre  to-day  of  a  more  delicate  character,  such  an  independent 
public  interest  as  this  is  what  you  have  long  seemed,  without 
seeking,  to  want  as  the  complement  and  crown  to  your  work  ; 
and  it  will,  I  hope  and  expect,  open  the  way  to  other  things, — at 
any  rate  to  opportunities  for  influencing  the  public  action  of  the 
Church,  which  will  be  reassuring  to  persons  like  myself  who 
watch  the  proceedings  of  Convocation  with  some  anxiety.  And 
it  will  be,  I  hope,  not  other  than  welcome  to  you. 

Sometimes  too,  I  trust,  that  your  London  duties  may  coincide 
with  my  times  of  residence,  and  that  we  may  get  the  incidental 
advantage,  if  not  of  entertaining,  at  any  rate  of  seeing  you  more 
frequently  than  has  been  the  case  in  the  last  few  years.  .  .  . 
1  The  election  of  the  Proctors  in  Convocation  for  the  diocese. 


284  CLOSE  OF  THE  WANTAGE  LIFE  1872- 

I  had  almost  forgotten  to  thank  you  for  my  share  of  the  great 
obligation  which  the  D.  and  C.  of  St.  Paul's  has  incurred  by  your 
recent  mission  work  in  the  cathedral.  May  God  bless  it  to  many 
souls  ! 

W.  J.  B.  TO  REV.  W.  G.  SAWYER. 

WANTAGE  VICARAGE,  March  1,  1874. 

I  do  not  feel  as  if  I  had  half  thanked  you  for  all  your  great 
kindness,  and  hard  work  on  my  behalf.  I  can  honestly  say  that 
I  value  your  affection,  and  that  of  so  many  others,  far  more  than 
the  actual  success  which  came  of  it.  I  believe  that  if  I  had 
foreseen  how  very  serious  a  matter  it  would  become,  I  should  not 
have  ventured  to  allow  myself  to  be  put  in  nomination.  If  we 
had  been  beaten,  I  have  little  doubt  that  we  should  have  had 
leading  articles  on  the  text  in  more  than  one  newspaper.  They 
would  have  represented  it  as  a  sign  of  the  inherent  soundness  of 
the  Church,  shown  in  the  spewing  forth  of  an  obnoxious  and 
dangerous  faction.  It  was,  beyond  all  comparison,  the  most 
important  of  the  Proctorial  elections.  AVhat  we  have  got  to 
fight  for  is  liberty  and  recognition.  The  appointment  of  men 
like  Liddon  and  King  to  high  positions  is  one  great  step  towards 
this,  and  the  Oxford  election  for  Proctors  is  another.  .  .  .  Now 
I  hope  to  be  able  to  be  of  a  little  service  in  the  work  of  reforming 
Convocation  and  making  it  what  it  ought  to  be,  of  real  value  to 
the  Church.  Strange  to  say,  so  long  ago  as  1841  I  had  set  my 
heart  to  see  Convocation  once  more  in  action.  I  have  a  note  in 
one  of  my  books  on  the  subject  written  at  that  time.  It  seemed 
to  me  that  a  Church  without  a  governing  body  must  get  into 
messes,  and  Convocation  seemed  the  natural  Church  council.  I 
got  what  information  I  could  from  Vincent's  father,  who  was 
Chapter  clerk  to  Westminster.  Then  came  the  Bishop  of  Oxford's 
vigorous  and  wily  efforts  to  resuscitate  it ;  and  now  the  '  sleep- 
ing beauty'  is  awake,  and  needs  only  to  be  taught  how  to  move. 
I  hope  that  the  enemy  will  now  be  quiet,  and  leave  me  in 
peace.  .  .  . 

W.  J.  B.  TO  REV.  E.  ELTON. 

WANTAGE  VICARAGE,  March  9,  1874. 

MY  DEAR  MR.  ELTON, — I  have  been  so  much  occupied  since 
Feb.  21  that  I  have  been  unable  before  this  to  write  to  you  to 


i88o  LETTER   TO    MISS  YONGE  285 

thank  you  for  the  kindness  you  have  shown  me,  and  the  trouble 
which  you  took  in  my  behalf  in  regard  to  the  election  of  Proctors. 
I  should  certainly  not  have  suggested  my  own  name  for  such  an 
office,  nor  did  I  in  the  least  expect  to  be  elected.  And  this 
makes  me  feel  the  more  beholden  to  those  who  were  good 
enough  to  think  well  of  me,  and  earnest  enough  to  carry  the 
matter  to  a  successful  issue.  I  trust  with  all  my  heart  that 
I  may  not  disappoint  you.  At  present  it  seems  to  me  that  there 
is  little  to  be  done  until  Convocation  can  be  placed  on  a  sounder 
footing  and  made  more  really  representative,  and  therefore  more 
trusted  by  both  clergy  and  laity.  I  mean,  therefore,  to  keep  as 
much  as  possible  out  of  the  somnolent  nebulous  debates  with 
which  the  columns  of  The  Guardian  teem,  and  to  try  to  work 
towards  reform.  .  .  . 

Among  the  Dogmersfield  and  Hursley  circle  of 
friends  was  Miss  Charlotte  Yonge,  who  soon  became 
a  friend  of  their  friends  at  Wantage.  Letters  passed 
occasionally  between  her  and  the  Vicar. 

W.  J.  B.  TO  Miss  C.  M.  YONGE. 

LEE  HOUSE,  BRIGHTON,  Aug.  16,  1870. 

MY  DEAR  CHARLOTTE, — Emma  some  time  since  asked  me 
some  question  in  your  behalf  connected  with  TAU  in  Ezekiel.  I 
was  very  busy  then,  and  I  fear  did  not  quite  grasp  the  point 
of  it.  Since  I  have  been  here  I  have  looked  up  all  that  I 
believe  is  to  be  said  on  the  subject,  and  it  amounts  to  this. 
The  fathers  almost  universally  accept  the  Tau  as  the  sign  of  the 
Cross,  foreshadowing,  as  the  Paschal  Lamb  foreshadowed  the  Lamb 
of  God,  the  Cross  itself.  The  present  fi  or  Tau  is,  they  say,  not 
the  original  form  of  the  letter.  Before  the  time  of  Ezra  the 
form  of  it  was  T,  i.e.  the  Greek  Tau  and  the  Latin  also.  Some 
Syrian  versions  actually  translate  "  Mark  with  the  Cross."  Of 
course,  Rev.  vii.  3,  etc.,  is  the  exact  counterpart  to  Ezek.  ix.  It 
is  maintained  by  Cornelius  a  Lapide  that  T  was  marked  in  the 
heart  of  the  god  Serapis  as  a  sign  denoting  future  life.  Various 
other  explanations  have  been  given — that  it  is  the  first  letter  of 
p  "  thou  shalt  live,"  or  CP  "  innocent,"  etc.,  but  it  seems  to 


286  CLOSE  OF  THE  WANTAGE  LIFE  1872- 

me  that  the  other  is  right.  I  am  here  till  Thursday  with  my 
mother  and  sister,  en  route  to  Dauphine,  i.e.  I,  not  they.  I  have 
never  seen  La  Grande  Chartreuse,  and  now  that  I  am  baulked  of 
Ober  Ammergau,  I  thought  that  I  could  pick  up  something  there. 
However,  this  terrible  war  makes  movements  of  this  kind 
uncertain,  and  I  hardly  know  what  will  become  of  me  for  the 
next  three  weeks.  How  strange  it  is  to  have  so  wonderful  a 
duel  at  one's  doors,  and  to  feel  so  utterly  careless  as  to  which 
prevails  !  Of  course,  abstractedly,  one  would  wish  well  to 
France ;  but  the  Secret  Treaty,  and  the  insufficiency  of  the  cause 
of  war,  neutralise  this  feeling  in  this  present  instance.  But  the 
tremendous  probable  issues  take  away  one's  breath.  One  can 
but  gaze  and  pray,  as  in  some  frightful  storm.  .  .  .  Have 
you  read  the  life  of  Pere  Besson  ? 

Miss  Yonge  gives  her  impressions  of  Wantage 
and  its  Vicar : 

I  had  heard  much  about  Wantage  before  I  saw  it,  from  the 
inhabitants  of  Dogmersfield  Rectory,  where  both  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Butler  had  been  almost  like  a  son  and  daughter.  There  is  a 
sermon  of  Newman's  on  St.  Ambrose  and  his  influence  on  St. 
Augustine,  showing  how  many  of  the  greatest  and  most  active 
workers  have  felt  the  influence  of  quiet,  hidden  saints;  and 
what  the  Rev.  Charles  Dyson,  his  wife,  and  his  sister  Mary 
Anne,  were  to  many,  and  especially  to  their  curates,  might  be 
cited  as  an  instance. 

Owing  to  bad  health,  there  was  an  air  of  venerable  age  about 
Mr.  Dyson  even  at  Oxford,  for  it  was  a  joke  that  the  first  time 
they  met,  when  Mr.  Keble  had  just  gained  his  scholarship  at 
Corpus  at  fourteen,  Mr.  Dyson  thought,  "  Here  are  boys  coming 
in  to  spoil  all  our  comfort " ;  and  Mr.  Keble  thought,  "  Here 
is  one  of  the  old  dons  I  have  heard  of."  But  there  was  soon 
an  intensely  warm  friendship  between  them,  and  likewise  with 
the  future  judge,  John  Taylor  Coleridge;  and  the  wisdom  of 
Mr.  Dyson  was  always  referred  to,  as  in  course  of  time  the 
brilliant  appreciation,  and  the  constant  sympathy  and  good 
sense  of  Mrs.  and  Miss  Dyson. 

The  latter  had  a  most  remarkable  mixture  of  enthusiastic 
idealism  and  practical  sense ;  and  in  the  early  days  of  Dogmers- 
field Rectory,  when  all  was  fresh  and  they  were  just  entering 


i88o  MISS   YONGE'S    RECOLLECTIONS  287 

on  the  work  of  a  country  parish,  so  small  in  population  as  to 
be  readily  workable,  and  with  a  lady  of  the  manor  who  was 
a  model  landlord  after  the  notions  of  those  times,  there  was 
much  that  was  bright  and  helpful.  The  Tracts  for  the  Times 
were  disseminating  principles,  and  accounts  of  their  influence 
came  in;  while  work  in  the  same  direction  was  done  by  zeal- 
ously instructing  the  cottage  children  and  by  writing,  among  a 
conclave  of  friends,  a  number  of  books  adapted  for  their  use, 
and  those  of  young  people  of  the  higher  class.  Some  of  the 
earlier  volumes  of  the  Magazine  for  the  Young  thoroughly  reflect 
the  parish  treatment,  and  the  enjoyment  of  it,  shared  by  the 
future  Mrs.  Butler  and  her  sister.  Among  these  friends  the 
translations  from  Fouque  were  undertaken,  Sintram,  translated 
by  Mrs.  Butler,  being  a  book  that  has  told  deeply  on  many 
minds.  I  think  Mr.  Butler  wrote  a  review  of  these  and  of 
Fouque's  life  in  the  British  Critic,  or  Christian  Remembrancer. 

Miss  Dyson  used  to  relate  how  the  offer  of  Wantage  was 
accepted  with  the  wish  that  Mr.  Butler  could  find  a  wise  old 
curate,  not  to  work,  but  to  advise.  Not  that  his  vigorous  nature 
needed  direction  or  stimulus.  It  was  the  time  of  fresh  renova- 
tion in  the  Church,  and  of  experiments.  This  is  not  the  place 
to  tell  how  they  were  begun.  When  I  first  knew  Wantage  the 
principal  improvements  were  already  established,  and  nothing 
struck  me  so  much  as  the  zest,  life,  and  spirit  which  pervaded 
everything.  The  early  service,  the  merry  breakfast,  the  schools, 
the  parish  visiting,  the  mid-day  dinner  with  the  curates,  the 
various  claims  on  the  afternoon,  the  classes  (for  pupil  teachers, 
for  communicants,  male  or  female  on  different  days),  the  even- 
ing visits  to  parishioners,  so  as  to  see  the  men  or  boys;  the 
evensong,  with  a  sermon  twice  a  week;  all  concluded  by  a 
supper  as  lively  as  the  former  meals  had  b«en ;  all  came  in 
quick  succession,  and  there  was  something  brilliant  and  some- 
times quaint  about  all. 

Once  I  had  the  pleasure  of  listening  to  a  lesson  to  the  pupil 
teachers.  They  were  numerous,  and  their  class  was  a  regular 
preparation  for  Training  Colleges,  and,  as  diocesan  examinations 
and  syllabuses  had  not  begun,  a  teacher  had  more  choice  of 
subjects.  This  lesson  was  on  the  last  chapter  of  the  Epistle 
to  the  Philippians,  and  I  remember  especially  the  dwelling  on 
the  word  crown  in  its  distinctive  meaning  as  the  crown  of 


:55  CLOSE  OF  THE  WANTAGE  LIFE  i$-2- 

acbievement,  not  the  diadem  of  royalty.  Also  the  moral  deduced 
from  the  message  to  Euodias  and  Syntyehe  of  the  harm  good 
women  do  to  a  holy  cause  by  disagreement.  The  beginning  of 
his  teaching  of  these  girls  was  the  enforcing  of  undivided  atten- 
tion, and  of  good  hand-writing.  'The  Vicar'  could  be  very 
sharp  where  these  failed — '  faineant '  spirits  fainted,  strong  ones 
rose  into  enthusiastic  affection  and  energetic  work,  and  admirable 
persons  were  the  result. 

Once  too,  as  I  came  down  stairs,  the  study  door  was  open, 
and  I  had  a  glimpse  of  the  elder  men's  communicant  class.  They 
were  fine  old  country  men's  heads,  and  I  told  the  Vicar  that  they 
looked  like  Conscript  Fathers,  which  amused  him  very  much. 

The  schools  were  in  admirable  order,  from  the  infant*  upwards, 
and  thoroughly  well  taught  and  grounded  in  religious  subjects  as 
well  as  in  secular.  But  Mr.  Butler  laid  great  stress  on  the 
work  upon  growing  lads  and  kisses,  holding  that  the  great  matter 
was  to  impress  them  and  keep  them  in  hand,  at  a  time  when 
their  characters  were  forming  and  their  experience  beginning. 

The  vicarage  is  before  my  mind — the  mullioned  windows  of 
the  dining-room,  festooned  with  creepers;  a  shady  walk  lead- 
ing to  the  churchyard,  bordered  with  limes,  and  skirting  a  lawn. 
It  was  a  place  of  general  hospitality  for  gentle  and  for 
simple,  where  endless  deep  discussions  and  many  merry  jokes 
might  go  on  among  old  and  young,  specially  after  supper  when 
the  day's  work  was  done,  and  its  humours  could  be  related.  For 
playfulness  was  a  great  element  in  the  household,  and  Miss 
Dyson,  who  loved  it  well,  used  to  say  that  Mrs.  Butler's  strong 
sense  of  the  ridiculous1  had  been  a  great  safeguard  against  eccen- 
tricities of  ritual,  when  so  much  was  experimental  and  curates 
were  hot-headed  and  theoreticaL 

There  certainly  was  an  uncompromising  contempt  of  nonsense, 
and  therewith  of  unreal  sentiment;  and  there  were  some  who 
could  not  stand  the  ordeal  of  irony.  The  atmosphere  was  a 
good  deal  like  a  brisk  frosty  morning,  excellent  and  enjoyable 
to  the  active  and  energetic,  but  a  severe  test  to  the  weaker, 
or  to  those  who  thought  charity  akin  to  indifference  to  evil. 
Simple  folly  was  borne  with,  humbug  never  tolerated. 

Bishop  Samuel  Wilberforce  once  said  (in  joke)  that  at  Wantage 
there  was  no  rest  day  or  night.  Everything  was  done  with 
1  Inherited  doubtless  with  her  Canning  blood. 


i88o  MISS   YONGE'S   RECOLLECTIONS  289 

full  activity  by  day,  and  at  night  first  there  were  conversations 
lasting  into  the  small  hours,  and  then  the  doves  cooed  and  the 
clock  chimed! 

All  was  however  delightful  to  those  in  high  health  and  high 
spirits.  One  visit  I  remember,  made  memorable  by  an  expedition 
to  Fairford  to  see  the  marvellous  windows  with  which  Mr. 
Keble  grew  up,  and  his  old  home,  with  the  rooks  about  which 
he  wrote  a  poem  for  his  little  nephew  (in  Miscellaneous  Poems). 
It  was  a  drive,  interesting  and  delightful  in  all  ways.  Another 
time  we  went  to  Dorchester,  the  Oxfordshire  Dorchester,  with 
the  writhing  Templar  on  his  tomb,  and  the  Jesse  window  in 
solid  stone,  not  merely  glass.  Also  there  was  a  picnic  to 
what  was  called  Scutchamer  Nob  (supposed  to  be  King  Cwichelm's 
knoll),  a  round  Berkshire  mound  surmounting  other  hills,  near 
the  supposed  site  of  Alfred's  battle  of  Ethandune.  Near  at 
hand  was  the  White  Horse,  a  very  Saxon  specimen  of  drawing 
indeed,  all  legs  upon  a  slope;  but  whose  scouring  in  Alfred's 
tenth  centenary  is  celebrated  by  'Tom  Hughes,'  and  com- 
memorated by  the  Wantage  Grammar  School.  There  too  we 
saw  Wayland  Smith's  cave,  a  disappointment,  since  it  is  only 
a  cromlech  in  a  copse,  not  at  all  favourable  for  Tressilian's 
adventures  with  Flibbertigibbet. 

All  these  were  times  of  most  interesting  conversations,  I 
wish  I  could  remember  them  minutely.  One,  I  know,  was  on 
the  Sabbatarian  question,  when  Mr.  Butler  was  more  tolerant 
of  selling  sweets  on  Sunday  than  I  expected.  I  remember  his 
saying  he  had  tried  to  persuade  an  old  woman  that  it  was 
not  wrong,  because  he  found  that  it  kept  her  from  Holy 
Communion,  as  she  would  not  give  it  up,  though  her  conscience 
went  against  it.  He  said  he  had  grown  up  to  consider  a  sweet 
or  cake  a  legitimate  Sunday  treat,  when  at  school  at  Westminster. 
I  did  not  and  cannot  agree. 

We  were  quite  agreed  in  disliking  the  system  of  sending 
Sisters  out  on  a  "Que'te."  It  is  more  blessed  to  give  than 
to  receive,  but  there  is  no  blessing  on  begging.  The  Wantage 
Sisters  have  never  done  it,  yet  they  have  thriven.  This 
is  all  that  I  clearly  recollect.  There  were  other  meetings, 
and  especially  one  when  he  came  to  us  for  Mr.  Keble's 
funeral.  He  was  full  of  two  things — the  dangers  of  Ecce 
Homo,  and  the  beauty  of  Gerontius.  He  would  read  to  us 

T 


290  CLOSE  OF  THE  WANTAGE  LIFE  1872- 

the  most  undesirable  bits  of  the  former  ;  my  mother  said 
on  the  principle  of  "  come  and  smell  this,  it  is  so  horrid."  But 
he  advised  me  not  to  read  it  for  the  sake  of  others,  or  any 
such  books. 

Gerontius  he  read  us  likewise,  with  exceeding  admiration ; 
but  after  we  had  stood  at  that  grave,  with  the  celandines 
sparkling  in  the  sunshine  on  the  bank,  while  the  twenty-third 
Psalm  was  sung,  "I  felt,"  he  said,  "as  if  it  were  all  swept 
away." 

A  few  more  letters  exchanged  with  Dr.  Liddon 
bring  the  correspondence  of  the  Wantage  life  to 
an  end. 

REV.  CANON  LIDDON  TO  W.  J.  B. 

CHRIST  CHURCH,  OXFORD,  Monday,  March  20,  [1876]. 

Ever  since  the  news  of  Bishop  Milman's1  death  reached  us, 
I  have  been  thinking  how  very  sorely  it  must  press  upon  you. 
When  I  first  became  curate  of  Wantage,  in  Jan.  1853,  I  re- 
member your  saying  out  in  the  garden,  "  There  is  one  man  of 
genius  in  this  neighbourhood,  Milman  of  Lambourne ;  we  must 
go  over  and  see  him."  We  did  go,  and  drove  back  at  night 
by  moonlight;  and  those  first  impressions,  deepened  and  en- 
riched as  they  were  by  subsequent  contact  with  him,  have  been  a 
mental  treasure  of  mine  ever  since.  I  owe  them  really,  as  so 
much  else,  to  you;  and  my  own  feeling  at  his  removal  from 
this  earthly  scene  must  be  a  sort  of  faint  reflection,  I  know,  of 
yours.  And  yet  what  an  event  it  really  is !  And  how  quietly 
the  world  takes  it — except  a  friend  here  and  there — just  as  if 
nothing  very  particular  had  happened  at  all ! 

No  person  now  left  in  the  high  places  of  the  Church,  as  it 
seems  to  me,  combined  so  much,  and  combined  it  so  well  as 
he  did.  To  begin  at  the  bottom,  he  was  a  philologist  and  a 
philosopher — two  minds  not  often  found  in  one,  and  both  so 
necessary  for  India !  Then  he  was  a  man  of  steady  adherence 
to  principle,  yet  of  immense  consideration  for  others — even 
The  Record,  I  see,  has  a  respectful  word  for  him  on  this  score. 
Then  while  he  was  a  thorough  Ecclesiastic,  or  Christian  in  Holy 
Orders  who  believes  his  creed  and  work  to  be  of  the  first  im- 
1  Bishop  of  Calcutta  ;  died  March  15,  1876. 


i88o  AN    EARLY   SERVICE 


291 


portance,  he  knew  enough  of  mankind  at  large  to  do  them 
justice. 

I  cannot  say  how  much  I  had  looked  forward  to  the  privilege 
of  seeing  him  again.  W.  H.  Milman  says  that  they  were  to 
have  arrived  in  England  on  May  24.  Poor  Miss  Milman !  what 
she  will  do  out  there  alone !  and  with  all  the  anxieties  which 
must  attend  and  follow  his  death,  I  cannot  think.  ...  I 
follow  the  texts  of  your  Lent  addresses  each  day :  they  are  here 
in  my  study  hanging  up,  and  do  me  good,  as  well  as  the  Wantage 
people. 

W.  J.  B.  TO  EEV.  CANON  LIDDON. 

WANTAGE  VICARAGE,  January  2,  1877. 

...  I  thought  on  Sunday  of  your  kind  wish  that  I  should 
preach  at  St.  Paul's  that  night,  and  grumbled  in  my  mind  at  the 
shortness  of  the  tether  which  the  work  of  a  place  like  this  allows. 
But  I  was  well  rewarded  and  rebuked  on  Monday,  when  we  had 
333  communicants,  of  whom  230  came  to  church  at  4.30  A.M. 
I  am  very  thankful  to  see  that  the  daily  Sacrifice  of  the  Church 
is  once  more  offered  in  St.  Paul's.  It  cannot,  I  think,  fail  to 
bring  a  blessing  on  all  the  dwellers  in  London,  perhaps  even  on 
others  to  whom  the  Cathedral  of  London  seems,  though  techni- 
cally it  is  not,  the  metropolitan  church. 

We  are  all  (D.Gr.)  well  and  cheerful.  The  change  from  strength 
and  vigour  to  old  age  and  decrepitude,  which  I  suppose  must 
come  in  course  of  time,  has  not  fallen  yet  on  our  household.  .  .  . 

REV.  CANON  LIDDON  TO  W.  J.  B. 

KILCOMAN,  July  13,  1877. 

I  must  write  one  line  to  say  how  grateful  I  (with  many  others, 
no  doubt)  am  to  you  for  what  you  said  in  Convocation  on  the 
subject  of  confession.  Even  at  a  time  of  excitement  like  this 
your  words  cannot  fail  to  do  a  great  deal  of  good,  and  this  not- 
withstanding   's  invidious  comments  upon  them.  , 

however,  is  not  likely  to  harm  you  much;  he  is  a  master  of 
popular  platitudes,  but  not  a  man  to  move  mountains  whether 
for  good  or  evil.  How  odd  it  is  that  so  many  sensible  people, 
who  know  nothing  whatever  about  confession  from  a  personal 
experience,  yet  can  make  the  strongest  statements  about  it  on 


2Q2  CLOSE  OF  THE  WANTAGE  LIP'E  1872- 

purely  a  priori  grounds.  In  any  other  subject-matter  they  would 
be  the  first  to  feel  the  absurdity  of  such  a  proceeding ;  but  un- 
theological  passion,  disguised  under  the  form  of  zeal  for  the 
purity  and  simplicity  of  religion,  is  capable  of  a  good  deal  that  is 
absurd  or  worse.  .  .  . 

REV.  CANON  LIDDON  TO  W.  J.  B. 

3  AMEN  COURT,  E.G.,  August  1,  1877. 

...  I  saw  an  account  of  the  Wantage  festivities1  in  the  papers, 
and  read  them,  you  may  be  sure,  with  great  interest.  If  you 
were  an  Italian,  what  an  inscription  you  would  put  up  to  com- 
memorate the  Prince's  visit!  But,  as  you  are  an  Englishman, 
you  will  probably  do  nothing  of  the  kind,  though  these  mementos 
have  their  use  for  those  who  come  after  us.  ... 

In  1880  his  parochial  life  ended.  He  had  gone 
abroad  in  August  for  his  annual  holiday,  and,  as 
his  custom  was,  left  his  letters  to  accumulate  during 
his  absence.  In  the  heap  that  lay  at  Wantage  was 
one  that  would  materially  change  his  life.  It  was 
an  offer  from  Mr.  Gladstone  of  a  canonry  in  Wor- 
cester Cathedral.  Some  three  weeks  passed,  and 
no  answer  being  received  by  the  Premier,  the  curates 
were  communicated  with ;  the  letter  was  found  and 
opened,  and  its  contents  were  telegraphed  to  the 
Vicar  in  Tyrol.  He  returned  at  once  to  England, 
and  w^ent  to  Worcester  to  see  the  place  and  make 
the  necessary  inquiries  about  the  canonry,  which 
had  been  previously  held  by  a  personal  friend  of 
his,  Richard  Seymour. 

There  were  two  points  which  needed  settling 
before  he  could  make  up  his  mind  to  accept  the 

1  When  the  Prince  and  Princess  of  Wales  came  to  "Wantage  to  unveil 
a  statue  of  King  Alfred,  which  was  set  up  in  the  market-place  by 
Sir  Robert  Loyd  Lindsay,  now  Lord  Wantage. 


i88o  OFFER   OF   A   WORCESTER   CANONRY  293 

preferment.  He  could  not  endure  the  thought  of 
a  severance  of  his  connexion  with  the  Wantage 
sisterhood,  and  he  was  determined  not  to  alter 
what  had  been  his  practice  during  the  whole  of 
his  clerical  life  in  using  the  eastward  position  in 
celebrating  the  Holy  Communion.  Finding  there 
was  no  difficulty  on  these  points,  he  accepted  the 
canonry.  These  letters  show  what  his  feeling  had 
been  in  making  the  decision  to  leave  his  old  home. 

W.  J.  B.  TO  . 

Sept.  3,  1880. 

Mr.  Gladstone  has  offered  me  the  vacant  canonry  of  Wor- 
cester. In  a  worldly  point  of  view  it  is  a  'good  thing.'  But 
I  cannot  accept  it  without  first  ascertaining  how  far  it  would 
accord  with  my  present  work.  I  received  a  telegraph  message 
at  Innsbruck,  and  I  wrote  to  Mr.  G.  to  that  effect.  It  is 
very  kind  of  him  to  offer  me  the  first  piece  of  real  preferment 
that  has  fallen  into  his  hands,  considering  that  he  cannot  rank 
me  among  his  supporters. 

W.  J.  B.  TO  . 

Sept.  8,  1880. 

The  matter  is  all  settled.  I  found  that  I  could  hold  the 
canonry  without  giving  up  the  work  of  the  Sisters  and  of 
the  diocese,  though  eventually  I  must  resign  the  parish  and 
with  it  of  course  the  vicarage,  which  I  love  so  much  and 
which  so  exactly  meets  my  needs.  At  Worcester  there  is  a 
large  house,  much  too  large,  and  very  ugly  though  comfort- 
able, needing  more  servants  and  state,  etc.  But  all  doubtless 
will  shape  itself. 

W.  J.  B.  TO  EEV.  W.  G.  SAWYER. 

WANTAGE  VICARAGE,  Sept.  14,  1880. 

Thank  you  very  heartily  for  all  your  loving  words  and  deeds. 
I  know  well  that  I  have  no  truer  friend  than  you.  Nothing 


294  CLOSE  OF  THE  WANTAGE  LIFE  1872- 

ever  more  surprised  me  than  the  offer  of  this  canonry.  I  neither 
sought  it  nor  cared  for  it.  When  I  was  elected  Proctor  for  the 
diocese,  owing  to  your  kind  and  vigorous  exertions,  I  felt  that  I 
had  attained  an  honour  of  the  most  heart-satisfying  kind.  To 
be  elected  by  one's  fellows — fastidious  and  critical  as  the  clergy 
are — seemed  to  me  enough  to  gratify  all  one's  ambition.  And 
with  that  I  simply  hoped  to  hold  on  as  long  as  I  had  power  to  do 
justice  to  such  a  charge.  I  did  hope  eventually  to  resign 
Wantage,  and  to  say,  '  Pauperiem  sine  dote  quaero. '  Now 
however  in  this  canonry  I  have  what  enables  me  to  do  this 
'handsomely.'  People  will  understand  that  it  is  impossible  to 
hold  a  parish  which  makes  such  a  demand  on  one's  powers, 
together  with  an  office  which  necessitates  three  months'  absence 
yearly.  While  at  the  same  time  I  hope  to  live  here — at  first  at 
'  The  Mead,'  then  wherever  I  can — and  watch  over  the  Sisters, 
and  take  such  part  as  I  have  hitherto  taken  in  the  general  work 
of  the  diocese.  This  is  what  the  Bishop  wishes,  and  what  falls 
in  with  my  own  instincts.  Enough  about  myself.  .  .  . 

W.   J.   B.   TO   MRS.    WlLKINS. 

LEE  HOUSE,  BRIGHTON,  Jan.  9,  1881. 

Believe  me,  that  nothing  but  a  clear  perception  that 
this  change  will  in  the  long  run  be  the  best  for  all  could  have 
induced  me  to  make  it.  It  is  true  that  I  might  have  gone 
on  for  some  time  longer,  but  then  I  might  have  broken  down 
just  when  it  would  have  been  of  all  importance  to  be  well  and 
strong.  .  .  .  Moreover,  it  is  to  be  remembered  that  life 
does  not  last  for  ever.  We  must  all  try  to  look  forward  a  little 
to  that  blessed  time  when  there  shall  be  no  more  separation, 
but  all  shall  be  one  and  together  in  the  Presence  of  our 
blessed  Lord.  .  .  . 

Naturally  the  first  thing  that  occupied  his 
thoughts  was  the  appointment  of  his  successor.  He 
could  not  have  left  Wantage  with  any  happiness 
had  he  not  been  assured  that  the  vicar  who  came 
after  him  would  carry  on  his  work  in  the  same  spirit 
and  on  the  same  lines.  Fortunately  the  appoint- 


i88o  A   PRESENT   FROM    OLD    CURATES 


295 


ment  of  his  friend  and  former  curate,  T.  H.  Archer 
Houblon,  then  Rector  of  Peasemore,  completely  set 
his  mind  at  rest  on  this  subject. 

He  had  always  disliked  testimonials,1  but  it  was 
impossible  for  him,  after  such  a  life  and  work,  to 
leave  his  parish  without  many  tokens  of  the  love  and 
esteem  of  his  people.  He  was  also  greatly  touched 
and  pleased  by  the  gift  of  some  carved  oak  book- 
cases from  his  former  curates,  made  for  his  new  study 
at  Worcester  ;  and  a  letter  from  Mrs.  Butler  to  the 
Rev.  W.  G.  Sawyer  tells  how  the  idea  was  conceived 
and  carried  out. 

WANTAGE  VICARAGE,  Dec.  19,  1880. 

Thank  you  for  your  letter,  and  for  the  confidence  reposed 
in  me.  Nothing  could  be  better  than  bookcases  for  the  dear 
land  old-Curates'  offering.  Especially  as  Henry  Houblon  '  takes ' 
to  those  that  line  the  study  here.  If  the  cases  did  not  swallow- 
up  all  the  money  (which  /  esteem  a  most  generously  large 
amount),  then  some  books  might  be  added.  Of  course  there 
are  difficulties  in  the  way  of  selection,  but  I  think  that  if  you 
will  trust  to  me  to  negotiate  the  affair,  with  the  help  of  Lady 
Alwyne  Compton — whose  taste,  cleverness,  and  leisure  are  always 
at  her  friends'  disposal — and  of  an  ingenious  man  in  old  oak, 
named  Jeff,  we  might  manage  to  have  the  right  sort  of  book- 
cases erected  and  planted,  unbeknown  to  the  Vicar.  The  one 
thing  I  deprecate  is  the  money  being  handed  over  bodily  to  him, 
not  so  much  that  he  would  lose  it !  but  because  it  would  be 
unpoetical,  and  he  would  be  hurt  and  pained  instead  of  having 
his  heart  so  touched  and  made  happy  by  the  constant  loyal 
affection  of  his  much  loved  fellow-labourers.  It  quite  made  my 
heart  bound,  when  I  was  recalling  all  the  old  names  with  the 
Houblons,  and  being  reminded  that  in  that  long  list  there  was 

1  He  once  made  an  epitaph  on  himself  : 

"  Willing,  but  weak  and  witless,  one  lies  here 
Who  died  without  a  '  teapot '  or  a  tear  !" 


296  CLOSE  OF  THE  WANTAGE  LIFE  1872- 

not  one  but  was  doing  good  and  acceptable  service  to  our  dear 
mother  the  Church  of  England.  If  you  and  the  rest  approve, 
then  I  will  set  to  work  by  letter,  and  circumvent  the  Vicar's 
orders  to  his  carpenter.  We  do  not  now  expect  to  be  at  Wor- 
cester until  the  12th  January,  but  we  shall  turn  out  from  here 
the  previous  week.  It  is  very  trying  to  break  up  one's  home 
of  thirty-four  years  standing,  and  there  is  a  deal  to  be  done. 

Some  years  later,  in  March,  1885,  when,  owing  to  a 
fall  at  St.  Giles's  Vicarage,  Eeading,  which  renewed 
the  old  trouble  in  his  back,  he  was  obliged  to  lie 
quiet  for  a  time,  he  refers  to  this  gift  in  lines  which 
portray  the  characters  of  his  former  fellow-  workers. 
The  little  poem  was  privately  printed,  and  sent  to 
those  old  friends  who  formed  its  subject.  A  few 
extracts  are  given. 

The  motto  to  the  poem  is  : 


Mi)  dXXa^ys  <j>i\ov  dSiaffropov,  p,r)8'  d 

/aa^. 
Z'.  177. 


It  begins  : 


Dear  Brothers  and  old  Comrades,  who  the  fight 

Have  fought  with  me  of  faith,  in  that  great  fray 

'Twixt  ill  and  good,  death,  life,  the  fiend  and  God, 

Dear  friends  of  many  a  year,  I  love  to  dwell 

On  days  past  by,  when  to  the  little  child, 

Or  aged  man  just  tottering  to  the  grave, 

Or  widow  in  her  woe,  or  youth,  or  maid, 

Or  suffering  saint,  or  hardened  sinner's  heart, 

Or  those  who  hardly  live  by  parish  dole, 

In  school  or  church,  or  busy  tradesman's  house, 

In  poor  man's  cot,  or  field,  or  market  place, 

We  strove,  God  helping  us,  to  teach  His  Word. 

And  now  I  sit  and  muse,  while  each  and  all 

Those  well-remembered  names,  for  ever  stamped 


i88o  VERSES    ON    HIS   CURATES  297 

On  that  their  kindly  and  most  welcome  gift, 
Holding  what  next  I  love,  my  store  of  books, 
The  gleanings  of  a  life-time,  bring  to  mind 
Those  well-remembered  faces,  voices,  forms. 

The  verses  proceed  to  describe  in  a  few  lines  for 
each,  the  characters  of  those  who  formed  the  long 
line  of  Wantage  curates.  Among  them  was  A.  H. 
Mackonochie,  1852  : 

Next  I  see  one  with  countenance  serene, 

And  kindly  smile,  and  firm  resolving  brow, 

Whose  single  aim  has  been  the  Church's  weal, 

And  ever  to  resist  man's  alien  law. 

Dear  friend !  fain  would  I  that  thy  lot  were  cast 

In  less  perturbed  waters,  where  thy  love 

And  self-forgetful  zeal  and  earnest  word 

Had  found  free  course  for  that  thy  heart's  desire, 

The  priest's  best  work,  the  winning  souls  for  God. 

Then  follows  H.  P.  Liddon,  1853  : 

Here  too  is  he,  in  word,  in  lore  unmatched, 
True  courtier  of  the  Queen  of  Sciences, 
The  learned  theologian,  firm  and  strong 
To  hold  the  faith  once  given  to  the  saints, 
Yet  gentle  as  a  child,  whose  sparkling  wit 
And  playful  humour,  brightening  argument, 
Refutes  gainsayers,  yet  leaves  no  wound  behind. 

Next: 

two  brothers,  one  whose  joy  has  been 
The  weird  agaric  and  the  hidden  lines 
Of  rock  and  fossil  to  investigate. 
The  other,  vigorous,  hearty,  truest  friend ; 
Of  hirsute  aspect,  yet  of  gentlest  heart, 
Much  to  be  cherished,  worthy  there  to  dwell 
Where  souls  need  strong,  and  wise,  and  tender  guide. 

The  late  Father  O'Neill,  who  came  to  Wantage 
in  1864,1  is  thus  described: 

1  See  Chapter  VI.,  p.  175. 


298  CLOSE  OF  THE  WANTAGE  LIFE  1872- 

And  here  is  one  most  faithful,  blunt  in  tone, 
No  smooth-tongued  man-observer,  knowing  naught 
Save  Christ  and  Him  the  crucified,  and  those 
For  whom  Christ  died,  offering  in  distant  land, 
'Mid  strange  and  dusky  faces,  all  he  had, 
Till  martyr-like  at  length  his  life  he  gave. 

So  he  goes  through  the  long  list,  lightly  touching 
the  characteristics  of  each  with  a  loving  hand,  till 
the  conclusion  is  reached  : 

And  thus,  as  when  some  noble  drama  done, 

The  last  act  finished,  voices  hushed  and  still, 

They  who  so  well  have  wrought,  together  stand 

Just  for  one  lingering  moment,  side  by  side, 

While  they  who  gaze  are  filled  with  gratitude 

For  all  they  have  seen  and  heard — and  solace  sweet 

Which  they  have  tasted  while  the  play  went  on ; 

So  I,  recalling  four-and-thirty  years, 

Those  strangely  mingled  days  of  joy  and  woe, 

Of  disappointment,  and  of  good  success, 

Of  efforts — some  rewarded,  some  in  vain — 

Of  steady  growth  amidst  anxieties, 

Of  seed  oft  sown  in  tears,  then  reaped  in  joy, 

Ever  have  these  before  me,  comrades  true, 

And  lift  up  thankful  heart  and  voice  to  Him 

Who  made  us  all  of  one  mind  in  one  house. 

In  the  last  entries  he  wrote  in  the  "  Parish 
Journal,"  he  said  his  farewell  to  his  Wantage  life. 

Dec.  31,  1880. — Thus  then  ends  the  last,  or  thirty-fourth,  year 
of  the  present  vicar's  incumbency  of  Wantage.  In  looking  back 
to  the  days  gone  by,  there  is  indeed  the  deepest  cause  for  thank- 
fulness. God  has  indeed  prospered  and  blessed  this  work, 
giving  "  beauty  for  ashes,  the  oil  of  joy  for  mourning,  the 
garment  of  praise  for  the  spirit  of  heaviness" ;  for  a  miserable 
unedifying  service  the  sweet  singing  of  the  choir ;  for  a  church, 
dirty,  disfigured,  unchristian,  our  present  beautiful  House  of 
God;  for  communicants,  scarcely  one  in  150,  600;  for  schools 
not  worthy  of  the  name,  where  some  24  boys  and  12  girls 


i88o  FAREWELL   TO   WANTAGE  299 

were  educated,  the  only  general  school  of  the  parish — build- 
ings, and  teachers  watching  over  600  children,  besides  the 
Grammar  school  revived  in  better  character  than  ever  before, 
and  St.  Mary's  school  where  other  classes  than  the  poorest  are 
admirably  taught  and  trained  ;  and  then  lastly,  the  Community 
of  Sisters,  whose  very  presence  brings  blessings  with  it.  Nor 
must  we  pass  by  St.  Michael's  on  the  Downs,  nor  our  little 
chapel  at  Charlton,  nor  our  mission  room  in  Grove  Street,  all  of 
which  are  exercising  the  happiest  and  most  blessed  influence. 
These  are  solid  blessings  such  as  cannot  well  be  marred.  The 
machinery  is  fairly  sufficient.  It  will  need  only  constant  use. 
The  tone  of  the  parish — very  different  from  that  which  I  remem- 
ber in  days  gone  by,  is  kindly,  reasonable,  trusting.  Prejudices 
have  departed.  Church  teaching  has  been  proved  and  accepted. 

Thursday,  the  Epiphany,  Jan.  6,  1881. — On  this  day  William 
John  Butler,  Vicar  of  Wantage  for  upwards  of  thirty-four  years, 
left  his  much-loved  flock  and  home  to  enter  on  the  duties  of 
Canon  of  Worcester.  May  God  forgive  him  his  many  short- 
comings, failures,  neglects,  and  in  His  mercy  find  a  place  for 
him  at  the  feet  of  faithful  pastors  of  His  sheep. 

He  took  leave  of  his  parishioners  in  this  letter : 

WANTAGE  VICARAGE,  December  3rd,  1880. 

MY  DEAR  FRIENDS  AND  PARISHIONERS, — After  having  lived 
among  you  for  the  long  space  of  thirty-four  years  in  true 
affection  and  intimacy,  I  feel  that  I  cannot  withdraw  from  a 
connexion  so  deeply  loved  and  cherished  without  a  word  of 
explanation.  I  do  not,  need  I  say  it,  wish  to  leave  Wantage— 
on  the  contrary,  I  am  well  aware  that  I  cannot  possibly  look 
to  days  happier  and  more  full  of  blessings  than  those  which 
I  have  spent  among  you,  still  less  again  to  form  friendships  like 
those  in  which  I  now  so  greatly  rejoice,  some  of  those  who  have 
grown  up  under  my  eye  and  care  to  manhood  and  womanhood, 
whom  I  have  had  the  privilege  of  preparing  for  the  holy  Kites 
of  the  Church,  others  of  those  who  for  many  a  long  year  have 
wrought  with  me  and  maintained  the  cause  of  Christ  and  His 
Church,  others  again  in  whose  homes  I  never  fail  to  enter  as  a 
kindly-welcomed  guest.  Nor  can  I  forget  that  in  our  church- 
yard lie  some  of  those  who  are  most  dear  and  near  to  my  heart. 
In  truth,  I  believe  that  almost  nothing  would  have  induced  me 


300  CLOSE  OF  THE  WANTAGE  LIFE  1880 

to  resign  this  charge,  save  a  conviction  that  my  resignation  at 
this  time  is  the  best  for  all.  For  some  years  past  I  have  felt 
that  the  charge  of  a  large  and  important  parish  like  this  of 
Wantage  is  more  than  I  can  happily  compass.  Hitherto,  I  thank 
God,  I  have  been  able,  I  think,  fairly  to  meet  the  many  demands 
on  my  time  and  strength — but  it  is  impossible  for  me  not  to 
be  aware  that,  like  all  others,  I  must  look  to  old  age  and 
infirmity  as  years  roll  on. 

When  then  it  pleased  Her  Majesty  the  Queen  to  permit  a 
Canonry  of  a  Cathedral  Church  to  be  offered  to  me,  I  could 
not  but  look  upon  this  as  an  opportunity  not  to  be  rejected 
of  seeing  the  parish  of  Wantage  placed — as  I  trusted — in  the 
hands  of  a  younger  man,  who,  it  might  be  reasonably  hoped, 
would  carry  on  that  work  to  which  most  freely  and  gladly  I 
have  devoted  all  the  best  years  of  my  life. 

Such  a  one,  I  rejoice  to  think,  has  been  designated  as  my 
successor — the  result,  I  cannot  doubt,  of  many  earnest  prayers — 
one  whom  all  know  well,  and  have  already  learnt  to  respect — 
in  whose  hands  I  can  trust  all,  without  one  shadow  of  doubt 
or  anxiety. 

For  myself  I  can  scarcely  look  forward.  I  know  of  a  certainty 
that  in  the  ordinary  course  of  nature  I  cannot  be  very  long 
either  at  Worcester  or  anywhere  else.  I  trust  however  that 
I  may  be  enabled,  even  in  the  evening  of  life,  to  do  some  little 
work  for  God's  glory,  before  that  "night  cometh  when  no  man 
can  work " :  and  for  this  I  would  earnestly  ask  your  prayers. 
I  would  ask  you  to  pray  both  for  me  and  for  him  who  is 
about  to  succeed  me,  that  we  may  each  do  our  duty  honestly 
and  faithfully  in  our  new  spheres  of  service  in  the  Lord's  Vine- 
yard. I  need  not  add  that,  so  long  as  I  live,  the  welfare  and 
interests  of  this  parish  will  always  be  most  dear  to  my  heart. 

Earnestly  praying  that  God's  blessing  may  ever  rest  upon 
you,  I  am,  my  dear  friends  and  parishioners,  your  very  loving 
pastor,  WILLIAM  BUTLER. 


CHAPTER  X. 
WORCESTER. 

WHILE  his  house  at  Worcester  was  getting  ready, 
the  new  Canon  and  his  family  stayed  at  the  Deanery, 
and  there  laid  the  foundations  of  the  closest  friend- 
ship of  his  later  life  : 

You  ask  me  to  write,  says  Lady  Alwyne  Compton,  what  I 
can  remember  of  your  father,  but  it  is  very  difficult.  It  seems  as 
if  one  should  have  his  vigour  to  describe  him.  He  must  have 
been  nearly  sixty  when  I  saw  him  first,  and  yet  he  was  full  of 
boyish  life  and  energy,  with  the  keenest  interest  and  enjoyment 
in  everything,  and  the  warmest  sympathy  for  all  around  him. 
I  never  knew  any  one  to  whom  religion  was  more  the  well- 
spring  of  his  life,  that  kept  it  always  fresh.  '  The  breath  of  daily 
prayer  and  praise  sanctified  his  noble  mind.'  He  was  vehement, 
yet  very  gentle ;  stern,  yet  brimming  over  with  sympathy. 

I  first  saw  him  at  Cambridge,  when  everybody  was  talking 
of  Lothair.  '  The  divine  Theodora '  was  blamed  for  entering 
into  a  plot  to  blow  up  Louis  Napoleon.  '  People  must  be  put  out 
of  the  way,'  he  said  laughingly,  "if  they  interfere  with  great 
principles.'  I  used  to  tell  him  that  the  first  thing  I  learned  of 
him  was  to  do  evil  that  good  might  come  ! 

In  1880  he  was  made  Canon  of  Worcester,  when  we  were  in 
the  Deanery,  and  from  that  time  our  friendship  with  him  and 
your  mother  and  you  was  always  growing,  if  it  could  be  said  to 
grow  when  it  was  so  perfect  from  the  beginning. 

We  had  great  difficulty  in  believing  that  he  could  live  or  take 
any  interest  in  a  new  place  like  Worcester ;  but  in  a  very  few 


302  WORCESTER  1881- 

weeks,  I  had  almost  said  days,  it  was  full  of  old  friends  to 
him. 

He  knew  the  history  of  every  verger  and  workman  about  the 
Cathedral,  and  threw  himself  heartily  into  the  interests  of  all 
whom  he  met  in  the  city. 

No  one  ever  went  to  him  in  vain  for  help  or  advice.  He 
often  found  time  for  a  class  once  a  month,  to  which  he  invited 
some  of  our  servants  and  others,  to  talk  to  them  about  the  Holy 
Communion.  '  I  don't  believe  in  your  religion,'  he  used  to  say, 
'  unless  you  say  your  prayers  and  go  to  Holy  Communion.'  Our 
servants  were  always  ready  to  go,  and  have  never  forgotten 
his  teaching.  He  knew  all  the  servants'  names,  and  had  a 
kind  word  for  them  whenever  he  went  in  and  out  of  the  house. 
When  at  breakfast  about  nine,  we  used  to  hear  the  door  bang, 
then  a  quick  step  coming  up  two  stairs  at  a  time,  and  he  would 
rush  into  the  room  :  '  What !  still  at  breakfast !  I've  had  mine  an 
hour  ago.' 

He  had  a  marvellous  power  of  imparting  his  own  strength 
and  enthusiasm,  and  I  always  remember,  on  the  wonderful  day  of 
his  funeral,  the  character  of  calm  strength  in  the  faces  of  the 
crowd  of  friends  who  filled  the  Cathedral  and  the  cloisters. 
There  has  been  a  great  silence  since  he  went  away. 

The  pastoral  spirit  which  was  always  alive  in  him 
soon  led  him  to  form  some  communicant  classes  on 
the  old  Wantage  lines  : 

W.  J.  B.  TO  MRS.  WILKINS. 

THE  COLLEGE,  WORCESTER,  March  8,  1881. 
.  .  I  had  a  class  last  week,  composed  of  our  servants  and  the 
servants  at  the  Deanery,  seven  in  number  altogether.  I  should 
not  be  surprised  if  by  degrees  I  get  together  something  like  the 
old  Wantage  classes.  At  least,  I  mean  to  try  to  do  so.  You  see 
that  there  is  a  great  difference  between  a  Cathedral  and  a  parish. 
I  have  no  one  exactly  who  claims  my  services.  A  good  many 
people  attend  the  Cathedral,  but  they  belong  to  some  parish  or 
other,  and  I  know  nothing  about  them  personally.  Still  we  have 
a,  great  many  people,  vergers,  bedesmen,  singing  men,  boys  of  the 
choir,  a  grammar  school — connected  with  the  Cathedral,  and  I 
hope  by-and-bye  to  get  hold  of  some  of  them.  .  .  . 


1885  FOUNDATION    OF   A   CHOIR   SCHOOL  303 

But  he  found  plenty  of  work  ready  to  his  hand  in 
his  new  capacity  of  Canon  Residentiary. 

Already  efforts  had  been  begun  to  make  the  restored  Cathedral 
more  spiritually  useful  in  the  city  and  diocese.  Canon  Barry, 
with  the  co-operation  of  the  Chapter,  had  established  a  Sunday 
evening  nave  service,  and  had  secured  a  better  observance  of  the 
Holy  Week  by  arranging  a  special  evening  service  at  which 
Bach's  'Passion  Music'  was  sung. 

Canon  Butler,  being  the  Canon  in  residence  during  the  Lent 
season  of  1881,  gave  a  series  of  addresses  at  three  P.M.  in  the 
Lady  Chapel  twice  a  week.  These  addresses  were  as  much 
appreciated  in  Worcester  as  afterwards  in  Lincoln  Cathedral. 
It  was  also  by  his  advice  that  a  Thursday  Celebration  of 
the  Holy  Eucharist  was  then  adopted. 

From  the  earliest  years  of  his  ministry  Canon  Butler  had 
always  been  a  great  promoter  of  real  education,  i.e.  of  education 
grounded  on  a  basis  of  definite  religious  teaching.  He  was  never 
tired  of  denouncing  in  the  strongest  terms  the  sham  of  '  unde- 
nominationalism.'  It  was  therefore  natural  that  he  should  at 
once  apply  himself  to  the  wants  of  Worcester  in  this  respect. 
Beginning  with  the  Cathedral,  he  observed  that  the  daily  attend- 
ance of  the  choristers  (all  of  whom  were  then  Worcester  boys)  at 
matins  and  evensong,  and  at  practice,  had  the  effect  of  drawing 
them  away  from  the  Cathedral  Grammar  school  at  important 
hours  of  study,  thereby  seriously  hindering  their  chance  of 
education.  By  this  time  the  appointment  of  Canon  Melville 
and  Canon  Knox  Little  had  brought  fresh  elements  of  vigour 
to  the  Chapter.  Accordingly  a  scheme  was  carefully  thought 
out,  and  approved  by  the  Chapter,  by  which  a  separate  choir 
school  was  set  up  for  the  Cathedral  choristers.  The  wardenship 
of  this  school  was  entrusted  to  one  of  the  minor  canons  (the 
present  Precentor),  who  for  many  years  had  worked  with  Canon 
Butler  at  Wantage  as  assistant  curate.  The  classical  and  mathe- 
matical instruction  of  the  boys  was  entrusted  to  a  very  able  man, 
whose  education  and  training  from  boyhood  had  been  personally 
supervised  by  Canon  Butler  himself. 

The  choir  school  was  commenced  in  January,  1882,  and  by  the 
kindness  of  the  Dean  was  carried  on  for  the  first  six  months  at 
the  Deanery,  until  a  suitable  house  was  available  in  College 


304  WORCESTER  1881- 

Green  for  boarding  the  boys.  The  choir  school  has  now  de- 
veloped into  a  preparatory  school  for  the  sons  of  gentlemen  and 
professional  men;  and  the  list  of  distinctions  and  honours  won 
by  the  boys  in  competitive  examinations  shows  that  to  give 
three  hours  a  day  to  Cathedral  duties  in  no  way  interferes  with 
the  work  of  general  education. 

In  the  year  1882  the  want  of  some  better  provision  for  the 
education  of  upper  class  girls  began  to  be  acutely  felt  in  Wor- 
cester. While  good  endowed  schools  supplied  amply  the  needs 
of  the  boys,  their  sisters  were  dependent  upon  private  effort, 
which  had  proved  wholly  inadequate  to  meet  the  ever-increasing 
demands  of  the  educational  movement  of  the  time.  Naturally 
Canon  Butler,  who  had  the  genius  of  a  great  educationalist,  was 
foremost  in  promoting  a  scheme  for  the  establishment  of  a 
school  which  should  meet  this  need. 

The  leading  citizens  of  the  town,  attracted  by  the  manly 
vigour  and  sound  common  sense  of  the  new  Canon,  gave  their 
hearty  co-operation  to  the  scheme.  A  suitable  house  was  pur- 
chased for  the  purposes  of  the  school  by  the  late  Lord 
Beauchamp,  who  by  all  means  in  his  power  strongly  supported 
the  project.  And  in  June,  1883,  the  work  was  fairly  started  on 
Church  principles,  and  with  a  conscience  clause,  under  a  Head 
Mistress  of  the  Canon's  selection. 

Some  of  those  who  had  known  how  persistently  Canon  Butler 
had  opposed  the  introduction  of  a  conscience  clause  into  National 
schools  were  surprised  at  what  appeared  to  them  the  incon- 
sistency of  his  accepting  it  in  a  High  school.  But  he  saw  clearly 
that  the  circumstances  are  wholly  different.  The  adoption  of 
a  conscience  clause  makes  it  possible  to  give  definite  Church 
teaching,  because  parents  have  full  liberty  to  withdraw  their 
children  from  the  whole,  or  from  any  part  of  it,  so  that  the 
teacher  can  be  true  to  her  own  convictions  while  perfectly 
loyal  to  the  wishes  of  the  parents,  who  certainly  have  the 
right  to  determine  what  form  of  religion  their  children  shall 
be  taught;  whereas  in  schools  where  all  children  must  come 
to  the  divinity  classes,  a  conscientious  teacher  is  perpetually 
hampered  by  fearing  that  she  may  be  teaching  what  some  of 
them  would  disapprove,  and  finds  herself  upon  the  horns  of  a 
dilemma,  untrue  either  to  herself  or  to  them. 

The  Canon's  clear-sightedness  and  generosity  averted  what  he 


1885  HIGH    SCHOOL   FOR   GIRLS  305 

felt  would  have  been  the  real  calamity  of  an  undenominational 
school  being  started  in  Worcester ;  he  never  used  the  word 
'undenominational'  without  the  modification  'so-called',  for  he 
used  to  say  that  there  could  be  no  such  thing  as  real  undenomi- 
nationalism  ;  that  in  practice  it  either  means  no  religion,  or 
something  so  colourless  as  to  have  no  reality;  no  backbone  of 
definite  dogma  which  can  enable  it  to  stand  against  the  rising 
flood  of  agnosticism. 

The  success  of  the  school  has  proved  the  wisdom  of  his  pre- 
science; but  it  was  not  only  in  laying  down  the  true  lines  at 
first,  but  also  by  his  constant  fostering  care,  that  he  contributed 
so  largely  to  that  success. 

His  generous  trust  in  all  those  who  worked  with  him  inspired 
them  with  something  of  his  own  enthusiasm ;  it  was  such  a 
joy  to  give  him  pleasure;  one  could  not  but  long  and  strive 
to  be  what  he  believed  one  to  be;  the  sound  of  his  cheery 
voice,  the  grip  of  his  friendly  hand,  seemed  to  impart  some 
of  his  own  manly  vigour,  and  he  thoroughly  understood  the 
details  of  school  life.  While  he  detested  mere  theorising,  he 
had  strong  and  clear  views  of  the  true  aims  and  of  the  right 
methods  of  teaching;  to  hear  him  give  a  lesson  was  worth 
months  of  ordinary  training ;  no  eye  could  wander,  no  attention 
flag,  while  he  held  the  young  minds  'at  tension';  and  with 
absolute  accuracy  and  perfect  clearness  drove  home  the  point 
he  meant  them  to  apprehend. 

Verily  had  his  path  lain  in  that  direction  he  would  have 
been  the  greatest  head  master  of  this  century.  But  there  was 
another  side  to  this  strong,  and  as  it  appeared  to  those  who 
knew  him  only  superficially,  somewhat  stern  character;  a  depth 
of  untold  tenderness ;  a  sympathy,  womanlike  in  its  gentleness, 
which  was  called  forth  at  once  by  suffering  or  sorrow;  it  is 
difficult  to  touch  upon  this  without  lifting  the  veil  that  should 
cover  the  sanctities  of  the  hidden  life;  but  those  who  have 
felt  it,  perhaps  first  learned  from  him  that  the  word  '  comfort ' 
means  'strength,'  and  think  of  him  as,  above  all,  a  very  St. 
Barnabas,  a  son  of  consolation. 

Closely  connected  with  this  was  his  chivalrous  attitude 
towards  all  women.  His  ideal  of  Christian  womanhood  was  a 
very  high  one,  and  if  he  strongly  deprecated  any  approach  to 
publicity  in  woman's  work,  it  certainly  was  not  that  he  de- 


306  WORCESTER  1881- 

preciated  their  powers,  but  that  he  feared  for  them  the  loss 
of  the  delicate  refinement,  the  purity,  the  humility,  which  he 
held  to  be  their  distinguishing  and  characteristic  virtues,  "the 
ornament  of  a  meek  and  quiet  spirit." 

So  write  two  of  those  who  worked  with  him  at 
Worcester.  He  himself  wrote  to  Canon  Liddon  : 

W.  J.  B.  TO  REV.  CANON  LIDDON. 

THE  COLLEGE,  WORCESTER,  Dec.  18,  1883. 

...  I  have  taken  an  active  part  here  in  setting  afloat 
a  '  High  school ' — another  hateful  word — for  girls.  I  had 
three  alternatives — (1)  and  worst,  to  hold  my  hand  and  then 

suffer to  swoop  down  upon  us,  and  set  up  a  school  which 

would  certainly  do  much  to  stamp  out  what  there  is  of 
Churchmanship  and  even  Christianity  from  the  city. 

(2)  To  set  up  a  school  with  what  people  are  pleased  to  call 
'undenominational    teaching,'    which    again    means    something 
against   the    Church.      For    there    are    only   two    religions    in 
England  with  any  definite   doctrinal   faith,   ourselves   and   the 
Roman  Catholics.     The  others  are  all  covered  and  included  and 
maintained  by  the  word  'undenominational.' 

(3)  To  have  such  as  our  present  school,  where  the  teaching 
is  most  definite,  with  a  power  for  parents  to  withdraw  children 
from  the  religious  instruction.      I  believe  that  this  will  never 
be   exercised.      But  it   satisfies   the   great   mass  of   those  who 
certainly  otherwise  would  have  set  going  (1)  or  (2).   ...     In 
the  colonies  the  (R.C.)   Sisters  and  others    receive    masses  of 
children  into  their  schools,  with  an   understanding  that   they 
are   not   to    influence    them    towards    the    R.C.    religion.      Of 
course   this   very   often   results   as   one   might    expect,  though 
the  promise  may  be  honestly  kept.      I  think  that  there  is  a 
great  difference  between  day  schools  and  boarding  schools  in 
this  matter.      A  boarding   school   is   a  family  where  one  and 
one  only  faith  can  rightfully  exist.    .   .   .    But  it  is  very  different 
when  you  are  making  arrangements  for  day-school  teaching  in 
a  town.     We  have  to  deal  with  masses  of  Church  people,  who 
are  themselves  not  half  instructed,  and  if  you  refuse  to  satisfy 
their   scruples,  you  simply  precipitate  them  into  the  opposite 


1885  TRUE   POSITION    OF   WOMEN  307 

camp.  Whereas  by  a  little  patience  you  bring  them  to  be 
strong  supporters  of  the  truth.  I  found  this  to  be  the  case 
in  Wantage,  and  I  believe  that  it  will  be  the  same  here.  .  .  . 

W.  J.  B.  TO  KEY.  CANON  LIDDON. 

THE  COLLEGE,  WORCESTER,  March  3,  1884. 

I  am  driven  to  write  to  you  on  account  of  the  few  words 
of  yours  which  I  read  in  the  Guardian,  lately  spoken  at  Oxford 
on  the  subject  of  women.  I  am  most  thankful  that  you  said 
them.  It  is  to  my  mind  by  far,  and  beyond  all  comparison, 
the  saddest  feature  of  this  generation,  that  women  are  claiming, 
and  are  encouraged  to  claim,  a  position  which  is  not  intended 
for  them;  and  that  they  do  not  perceive  the  inevitable  con- 
sequence, that  while  they  never  can  emulate  men  in  men's 
work,  and  can  at  best  be  but  poor  imitators,  they  will  lose 
that  most  grand  power  and  influence  which  are  really  and 
by  God's  providence  their  own. 

I  am  sometimes  thankful  to  think  that  the  end  of  my  earthly 
life  cannot  be  far  off.  It  seems  to  me  that  what  with  the 
sentimentality  of  one  set  of  minds,  the  recklessness  of  others, 
the  self-will,  the  weak  abandonment  of  those  great  Church 
principles  which  men  like  Mr.  Keble  held  and  taught  .  .  . 
there  is  a  very  bad  time  ahead. 

I  trust  that  will  comport  himself  reasonably.  ...  If 

men  of  his  type  would  be  Churchmen  first,  and  then  politicians, 
the  case  would  of  course  be  different.  I  always  tell  them  to 
vote  and  work  for  those  who  "love  our  nation  and  build  us 
synagogues."  That  text  seems  to  embody  the  politics  of  a 
true  Churchman.  .  .  . 

Other  letters,  illustrating  the  Worcester  period, 
follow. 

W.  J.  B.  TO  MRS.  WILKINS. 

THE  COLLEGE,  WORCESTER,  Feb.  10,  1882. 

.  .  .  Depend  on  it,  there  is  nothing  like  Church  teaching 
to  make  children  grow  up  in  the  right  road.  What  crowds  of 
young  men  and  young  women  are  now,  I  thank  God,  doing  well. 
There  is  something  in  Church  teaching  definite  and  satisfying, 


3o8  WORCESTER  1881- 

which  cannot  be  found  elsewhere.  Prayer,  Church,  Holy  Com- 
munion, these  are  the  means  by  which  God's  grace  enters  the 
soul,  and  when  people  seek  and  use  them,  they  will  not  go  far 
away. 

No  one  could  have  grieved  more  than  I,  when  I  was,  as  I 
thought,  called  upon  to  relinquish  a  place  and  post  which  I 
loved  so  dearly.  But  I  had  to  look  to  the  future,  and  it  was 
quite  clear  to  me  that  it  would  be  better  for  the  future  welfare 
of  the  parish,  that  a  younger  man  should  be  appointed.  .  .  . 

W.  J.  B.  TO  REV.  CANON  ISAAC  TAYLOR. 

THE  PALACE,  ST.  STEPHEN'S  GBEEN, 
DUBLIN,  May  5,  1883. 

MY  DEAR  TAYLOR, — I  was  delighted  to  get  your  letter  in  this 
wild  land,  and  to  hear  that  your  'magnum  opus'  is  really  about 
to  see  the  light.  You  must  feel  the  joy  of  delivery  '  that  a  man 
is  born  into  the  world.'  It  is  most  kind  of  you  to  offer  a  copy 
to  such  an  ignoramus  as  I  am.  I  shall  value  it  the  more  on  the 
'omne  ignotum'  principle.  Nevertheless  I  do  look  forward 
much  to  the  diving  into  its  abysses.  I  can  hardly  fail  to  pull 
out  and  appropriate  a  jewel  or  two. 

I  was  giving  a  lecture  at  Sheffield  on  Monday,  on  St.  Chry- 
sostom,  and  I  had  great  pleasure  in  making  acquaintance  with 
our  friend  Bradley.1  .  .  . 

We,  my  daughter  Mary  and  I,  arrived  here  last  Wednesday. 
The  Trenches  are  old  friends,  and  the  visit  has  been  hanging 
over  for  a  long  time.  I  had  never  before  been  in  Ireland,  and 
so  far  I  am  agreeably  disappointed.  Dublin  is,  to  my  mind, 
far  more  of  a  metropolis  than  Edinburgh,  and  there  seem  to  be 
much  life  and  business  in  the  place.  I  went  to  the  trial  of 
Hanlon,  one  of  the  conspirators,  and  was  much  struck  with  the 
freedom  and  calmness  with  which  the  witnesses  owned  to  lying. 

Counsel  cross-examining :  '  Then,  when  you  said  that,  you 
lied.'  Witness  (cheerfully),  'I  did,  sor.'  This  repeated  several 
times  during  the  course  of  examination. 

Your  letter  was  most  apropos.  The  Archbishop's  son  is  a 
partner  with  Paul,  and  the  bit  of  Irish  lore  created  much  interest. 

I  stay  here  over  Whitsunday  to  preach  in  Cathedral. 
1  Henry  Bradley,  Esq.,  now  joint-editor  of  The  New  English  Dictionary. 


1885  A   BIRTHDAY   LETTER 


309 


W.  J.  B.  TO  HIS  SISTER. 

LOWEB  HOUSE  OF  CONVOCATION,  Feb.  13,  1884. 
Brothers  and  sisters  do  not  often  write  to  one  another,  I 
fancy,  in  a  general  way.  They  take  it  for  granted  that  all  is 
right,  and  so  leave  matters  alone  till  there  is  a  real  reason  for 
doing  so.  Birthdays  are  something  of  this  kind,  and  are  specially 
useful  in  bringing  out  old  memories  and  present  love.  And 
thus,  in  the  midst  of  a  great  deal  of  talk,  and  some  excitement, 
of  a  very  long  debate  on  the  old  vexed  question  of  the  '  Con- 
science Clause,'  I  am  struggling  to  scribble  at  the  corner  of  the 
table,  sitting  all  askew,  to  write  a  word  of  birthday  greeting. 
We  are  all  growing  very  old,  but  somehow  we  keep  pretty 
well  together  the  essence  of  youth,  i.e.  vigour  and  cheeriness. 
(Division  is  coming,  I  know  not  which  way  it  will  go.  The  fight 
is  hard.  I  rather  expect  to  be  on  the  wrong  side,  because  I 
have  for  once  taken  what  is  looked  upon  as  the  less  Churchy 

line.     is  very  fierce  and  strong,  and  the  house  is  rather 

with  him  in  this  matter.)  We  have,  I  think,  much,  very  much, 
to  be  thankful  for.  Sound  health  is  indeed  a  blessing  second  to 
none,  and  in  spite  of  occasional  creakiness,  we  seem  to  have 
inherited  good  sound  constitutions.  I  am  now  two  years  older 
than  my  father  was  when  he  left  us  in  1849,  and  you  are  as  old 
as  our  grandmother  when  I  first  remember  her.  They  seemed 
quite  old  to  us,  but  I  doubt  if  we  should  seem  so  old  to  the 
young  ones.  Then  it  is  a  great  comfort  to  see  the  young  ones 
growing  up  good  and  healthy  and  right-minded,  every  one  of 
them,  settling  down  into  moderate  middle  life,  with  conscience 
"  void  of  offence  towards  God  and  towards  men."  And  so,  I 
think,  we  shall  jog  on  to  the  end,  and  when  the  call  comes, 
be  ready  to  meet  it  'without  shame,'  as  Bishop  Andrewes  calls 
it,  '  and  if  it  pleases  Him,  without  pain.'  And  so  our  generation 
will  have  done  its  work  and  be  called  to  its  rest.  .  .  . 

W.  J.  B.  TO  HIS  MOTHER. 

THE  COLLEGE,  WORCESTER,  March  23,  1884. 

MY  DEAREST  MOTHER, — Hurrah  for  March  !  How  well  he  has 
treated  us  this  year.  This  fine  soft  weather,  with  wind  W.  and 
S.W.,  will  make  up  for  many  other  years  like,  for  instance,  1883, 


3io  WORCESTER  1881- 

and  the  long  protracted  bitterness  and  misery.  Now  everything 
is  looking  bright  and  genial.  Rooks  cawing  happily  as  they  build 
their  nests  just  opposite  to  my  study  window ;  spring  vegetation 
clean  and  healthy,  fruit  trees  covered  with  bloom,  March  dust 
without  its  poison.  Altogether  everything  delights  the  eye  and 
ears.  People  say  that  we  shall  pay  for  this  by-and-bye.  I  do 
not  hold  by  those  croakings.  You  never  can  calculate  in  this 
country  either  on  fine  or  foul  weather,  and  the  only  plan  is 
to  be  happy  when  one  can,  and  to  let  the  future  take  care  of 
itself. 

Last  week  was  tolerably  busy  in  one  or  other  way.  On 
Wednesday  I  preached  at  a  village  .  .  .  where  the  leading 

man  Mr.   ,  is  one   of   our   great   iron-masters.     He   is   an 

excellent  Churchman,  and  a  very  well  informed  and  interesting 
person.  .  .  .  This  good  Mr.  -  -  has  built  a  church  and 
schools  for  his  men  at  his  own  expense,  and  takes  immense 
interest  in  all  that  concerns  their  good.  He  quite  laughs  at  the 
idea  of  strikes.  Living  among  his  men,  they  realise  him  as  a 
friend,  and  work  cheerily  under  his  directions.  It  is  a  wonder- 
ful blessing  to  a  neighbourhood  when  a  man  like  that  is  found 
there.  On  Thursday  I  was  at  Upton-on-Severn,  a  small  country 
town  about  twelve  miles  from  this.  It  was  of  some  importance 
at  the  time  of  the  Battle  of  Worcester.  The  Cromwellian  party 
had  to  cross  the  Severn,  the  cavaliers  having  broken  down 
the  bridge.  They  managed  somehow,  by  crawling  on  their 
stomachs  along  the  parapet,  occupied  the  church  tower,  and 
drove  the  cavaliers  back  on  the  road  to  Worcester.  .  .  . 
— Your  most  loving  son, 

W.  J.  B. 

His  mother  died,  aged  91,  on  April  4th,  1884. 
This  was  the  last  letter  of  a  series  written  every 
Sunday  for  a  period  of  more  than  thirty  years. 

W.  J.  B.  TO  MRS.  WILKINS. 

4  ADAM  STREET,  ADELPHI,  W.C.  Feb.  11,  1885. 

I  cannot  think  how  you  and  others  can  be  so  good  and 
faithful.  I  do  greatly  delight  in  getting  your  kind  notice  of  my 
birthday.  I  do  not  suppose  that  I  shall  have  many  more 


1885  WORK  AT   WORCESTER  311 

for  my  kind  friends'  greeting.  Wantage  always  must  be  to  me 
the  spot  in  the  world  in  which  I  feel  most  interested,  and  it 
is  the  greatest  blessing  out  of  my  many  blessings  that  have 
befallen  me  in  life,  that  all  goes  on  quite  steadily  and  satis- 
factorily. I  may  say  like  St.  Paul,  though  with  all  reverence 
and  humility — I  planted,  another  watered,  but  God  giveth  the 
increase.  Yes,  I  fully  hope  to  preach  to  you  at  Eastertide. 
Though  I  am  growing  older,  yet  my  voice  has  not  deserted  me. 
It  has  plenty  of  practice,  I  assure  you.  I  have  to  preach  in  no 
less  than  five  Cathedrals  during  the  coming  Lent.  .  .  . 

An  anonymous  writer  in  the  Church  Times  thus 
summed  up  the  impression  left  by  William  Butler 
on  the  Cathedral  and  city  of  Worcester : 

When  Canon  Butler  of  Wantage,  most  energetic  among  men, 
was  appointed  to  Worcester,  the  preaching  power  of  the  Cathedral 
was  materially  strengthened.  Many  an  eloquent,  manly,  and 
downright  sermon  have  we  heard  from  his  lips.  He  threw  him- 
self heart  and  soul  into  the  improvement  of  the  services,  especially 
with  regard  to  the  more  reverent  and  devotional  Celebrations 
each  Sunday  and  Saints'  day  in  the  year.  He  preached  right  and 
left  in  the  diocese  with  all  the  vigour  and  strength  of  a  man 
carrying  but  half  his  years,  not  knowing,  apparently,  what  ill- 
health  or  weakness  meant.  In  the  matter  also  of  the  voluntary 
choir  for  the  Sunday  evening  services  in  the  nave  Canon  Butler 
recognised  a  valuable  means  of  obtaining  a  firmer  hold  over  men, 
co-operating  cordially  in  the  movement.  Now  that  he  is  Dean  of 
Lincoln  there  are  many  who  look  back  with  gratitude  to  his 
work  in  Worcester.  It  was  suggested  in  the  early  days  of  the 
Salvation  Army  movement  to  Canon  Butler  the  advisability 
of  attempting  to  grapple  with  the  new  force,  with  the  object  of 
diverting  the  singular  organisation  into  orthodox  channels. 
With  characteristic  energy  he  at  once  condemned  the  idea.  It  is 
impossible,  he  said,  for  the  fundamental  principles  are  opposed  to 
Church  doctrine ;  their  fierce  and  dangerous  enthusiasm  could 
never  be  made  to  harmonise  with  our  system,  and  any  attempt 
to  accomplish  this  must  fail. 

In  May,  1885,  the  Deanery  of  Lincoln  was  offered 


312  WORCESTER  1881- 

to  him  by  Mr.  Gladstone.  Curiously  enough,  on  this 
occasion  also  he  was  abroad,  taking  his  holiday  in 
North  Italy,  and  the  letter  lay  about  ten  days  or  a 
fortnight  at  Worcester.  The  contents  of  the  letter 
were  telegraphed  to  him,  and  he  returned  at  once  to 
England.  He  paid  a  short  visit  to  the  Bishop  of 
Lincoln,  an  old  friend  of  many  years'  standing  in 
the  Oxford  diocese,  and  satisfied  himself  that  his 
acceptance  of  the  post  would  not  render  it  necessary 
for  him  to  sever  his  connexion  with  the  Wantage 
Sisterhood.  Here  are  two  of  his  letters  in  answer 
to  the  kind  expressions  of  friends  on  his  new 
preferment : 

W.  J.  B.  TO  

ST.  MARY'S  HOME,  St.  Barnabas  Day,  1885. 

Thank  you  and  your  father  also  for  your  kind  words.  Do  not 
however  congratulate  me,  but  pray  for  me.  Church  appoint- 
ments involve  very  serious  responsibility,  and  certainly  Lincoln 
Cathedral  not  least  of  all.  I  would  not  have  accepted  it  if  it 
would  have  separated  me  from  Wantage.  This  was  the  main 
difficulty.  But  when  I  came  to  talk  over  the  matter  with  the 
Bishop  and  the  Canons,  I  found  that  practically  I  could  be  here 
as  much  as  ever,  or  even  more  so.  A  Dean's  residence  is  quite 
undefined,  though  a  Canon's  is  not.  ...  I  have  been  so  lovingly 
greeted  by  the  Lincoln  people  that  I  feel  already  at  home 
there.  .  .  . 

W.  J.  B.  TO  REV.  W.  G.  SAWYER. 

THE  MEAD,  WANTAGE,  June  12,  1885. 

Thank  you  for  your  kind  words  and  all  your  affection  and 
kindly  thought  of  me.  It  has  been  a  matter  of  very  serious  con- 
sideration whether  I  should  accept  this  charge  of  the  Lincoln 
Deanery.  I  have  lived  so  long  in  the  '  West  countree '  that 
eastern  voices  and  ways  are  strange  to  me — though  at  one  time 
Middlesex,  Hertfordshire,  and  Essex  were  my  natural  habitat. 


1885  LEAVING   WORCESTER  313 

But  the  great  question  was  that  of  severance  from  the  Wantage 
Sisters,  and  it  was  not  until  I  had  ascertained  that  I  could  hold 
on  there  that  I  allowed  my  name  to  be  gazetted.  After  long 
talk  with  the  Bishop  and  the  Chapter,  both  of  whom  received  me 
most  warmly,  ...  I  found  that  there  is  little,  if  any  more,  diffi- 
culty than  I  have  at  present,  in  keeping  my  charge  here.  Of 
course  I  shall  resign  everything  else,  as  Rural  Deanery,  Chap- 
laincy of  the  Berks  Forces,  etc.,  and  so  far  lighten  the  ship.  .  .  . 

He  was  not  allowed  to  leave  Worcester  without 
some  recognition  of  his  work  from  the  inhabitants 
of  the  city.  A  circular  letter  was  put  forth  by  the 
Dean  and  the  Mayor,  of  which  this  is  a  portion  : 

WORCESTER,  August,  1885. 

It  has  been  thought  that  the  friends  of  the  Rev.  Canon 
Butler,  who  has  recently  been  preferred  to  the  Deanery  of 
Lincoln,  would  gladly  avail  themselves  of  the  opportunity  to 
join  in  some  permanent  memorial  of  his  work  and  zeal  for 
good  in  this  city  and  diocese  during  his  five  years'  connexion 
with  the  Cathedral  Chapter.  The  earnestness  with  which  Dean 
Butler  has  laboured  amongst  us  to  maintain  the  highest  pur- 
poses of  our  Cathedral  service,  to  foster  relations  of  increasing 
sympathy  between  the  Cathedral  and  municipal  bodies,  to 
promote  the  institution  and  insure  the  success  of  the  High 
school  for  girls ;  added  to  the  deep  personal  esteem  which 
he  has  inspired  in  numbers  by  the  self-sacrifice  and  sympathetic 
devotion  of  his  life  and  character,  have  suggested  not  alone 
the  necessity  for  some  memorial,  but  that  it  should  take  a 
form  which,  while  being  personally  acceptable,  might  per- 
manently connect  the  memory  of  his  work  with  a  Worcester 
institution,  which  he  did  so  much  to  found  and  perfect,  and 
in  the  success  of  which  he  is  known  to  be  deeply  interested. 

It  is  therefore  proposed  to  form  a  Reference  Library  at 
the  High  school  for  the  use  of  the  teaching  staff  and  the 
pupils,  the  books  being  placed  and  preserved  in  a  suitable 
case,  a  tablet  on  which  may  prominently  connect  the  library 
with  Dean  Butler's  name. 

It  is  also  hoped  that  it  may  be   found  possible  to  present 


314  WORCESTER  1881- 

for   the    Dean's    personal    acceptance    an    illuminated    address 
containing  the  subscribers'  names. 

On  December  16th  the  address  was  presented  to 
him  by  his  old  friend  Lord  Beauchamp.  He 
replied  : 

Lord  Beauchamp,  ladies,  and  gentlemen, — While  most  gratefully 
accepting  this  token  of  your  extreme  kindness,  I  am  compelled 
to  say  that,  in  some  sense,  you  have  placed  me  in  a  false  position. 
I  feel  as  if  in  some  sense  I  stand  before  you  this  afternoon  as 
an  impostor.  I  cannot  for  a  moment  venture  to  take  to  myself 
the  kind  expressions  which  are  conveyed  to  me  in  this  testi- 
monial. I  can  only  assure  you  that  I  have  had  most  earnestly 
at  heart  the  welfare  of  this  school  and  city,  and  whatever 
little  work  I  have  been  able  to  do  has  been  more  than  repaid 
by  the  kind  regard  you  have  accorded  me.  But  I  cannot  for 
a  moment  imagine  that  such  a  school  as  this  depends  in  any 
sense  on  me.  I  am  sure  if  I  had  never  been  Canon  of 
Worcester,  or  even  if  I  had  never  existed  at  all,  a  school  of 
this  kind  must  have  been  formed  in  the  city.  It  is  impossible 
to  suppose  that  in  a  city  so  conspicuous  for  its  intelligence,  its 
cultivation,  and  its  patriotism,  the  very  brightest  jewels — the 
precious  pearls  I  may  call  them — the  sweet  young  maidens 
who  are  growing  up  among  us  would  have  been  left  without 
the  very  best  kind  of  education  which  this  country  could 
possibly  afford.  Therefore  I  simply  feel  myself  as  one  who 
has  just  pulled  the  trigger  of  a  mine  already  laid;  or,  if  I 
may  take  something  of  a  Worcester  comparison,  as  one  who 
just  touches  the  ripe  fruit,  and  it  falls  without  effort  to  the 
ground.  I  may  say  that  the  kindness  and  confidence  with 
which  I  have  been  treated  in  the  effort  I  did  make  to  suggest 
this  school  to  the  city,  more  than  repaid  me  for  any  anxiety 
I  may  have  felt.  I  should  like  to  be  allowed  to  repeat  what 
I  have  said  on  a  previous  occasion,  that  I  believe  there  is  no 
place  in  England  where  any  public  effort  is  so  admirably  met 
as  it  is  in  this  city  of  Worcester.  There  is  less  of  that  wretched 
petty  jealousy  which  so  often  cramps  people's  attempts ;  there 
is  so  little  of  that  political  or  religious  antagonism  which  we 
find  in  so  many  places,  that  any  one  who  has  any  work  of 


1885  VOLUNTARY   EFFORTS  315 

good  to  do  in  this  city  may  certainly  expect  to  be  heartily 
and  kindly  met.  Let  me  say  one  word  as  to  that  which 
especially  delights  me  as  I  look  upon  this  school.  It  has 
been  our  own  voluntary  effort.  By  our  own  personal  exertions 
we  have  done  this  work  ourselves;  and  as  I  look  on  this 
beautiful  room,  as  I  think  of  the  excellent  scholastic  machinery 
we  have  around  us,  as  I  think  of  that  splendid  staff  of  mistresses 
who  are  teaching  your  children,  and  as  I  think  of  the  results 
which  we  are  seeing  year  after  year  springing  forth  from  this 
school,  it  does  seem  to  me  that  we  have  here  that  which  I 
very  much  desire  to  see  everywhere,  a  firm  and  consistent 
setting  forth  of  what  voluntary  effort  can  do.  I  believe  in 
voluntary  effort.  I  believe  it  to  be  consistent  with  the  whole 
character  of  the  people  of  this  country.  We  hear  in  other 
countries  of  wonderful  State  institutions,  of  schools  and  other 
institutions  of  the  same  kind  manipulated  from  headquarters; 
but  in  England  we  do  everything  ourselves.  Our  hospitals 
are  our  own  work;  our  Church — it  is  true  that  some  people 
may  call  it  State-supported,  but  those  who  know  better  know 
it  is  nothing  of  the  land.  Our  army  is  a  great  voluntary 
institution,  and  we  know  that  when  there  was  some  danger 
to  this  country  from  the  vapouring  French  colonels,  250,000 
Volunteers  started  up  to  oppose  the  foe.  So  it  is  with  our 
schools.  It  is  somewhat  the  fashion  in  some  quarters  to 
desire  to  introduce  that  manipulating  system ;  but  I  only  hope 
that  I  shall  never  see  it  done.  It  is  true  that  sometimes 
voluntary  effort  begins  somewhat  clumsily ;  but  in  voluntary 
effort  there  is  heart  and  will,  and  after  all  that  is  the  great 
thing  which  gives  it  spirit  and  life  and  genuineness.  There- 
fore I  trust  we  shall  never  see  voluntary  effort  suppressed  in 
this  country  by  the  action  of  Boards  in  London,  Commissions, 
or  anything  of  that  sort.  We  have  seen  something  of  that, 
and  the  evil  of  it;  attempts  for  instance  to  deal  with  the 
arrangements  of  land;  attempts  to  interfere  between  masters 
and  men;  and  others  are  threatened,  though  I  trust  we  shall 
never  see  anything  of  that  sort.  This  school  is  a  clear  token 
to  everybody  how  voluntary  effort  can  send  forth  its  work 
better,  more  reasonably,  and  more  lovingly  done,  than  any 
Board  or  Commission.  I  thank  you  with  all  my  heart  for  the 
kindness  with  which  you  have  received  me,  not  only  to-day, 


316  WORCESTER  1881- 

but  for  all  the  many,  many  kindnesses,  all  the  love  and  affection 
and  confidence  which  I  have  received  during  the  time  I  was 
resident  among  you.  It  is  a  great  grief,  I  do  assure  you,  to 
leave  you,  and  I  can  only  say  this,  that  Worcester,  this  fair 
city  and  its  lovely  Cathedral,  and  certainly  this  most  charming 
school  of  yours,  will  ever  find  a  place  in  the  very  warmest 
affections  of  my  heart. 

Although  he  held  the  canonry  for  so  short  a  time, 
his  strenuous  character  and  his  large  sympathies  did 
not  fail  to  make  a  deep  impression  on  Worcester. 
This  was  expressed  in  a  letter  from  a  citizen  of 
Worcester,  written  on  the  occasion  of  the  Canon's 
appointment  to  the  Deanery  of  Lincoln  : 

I  am  very  glad — for  Lincoln  !  but  the  faithful  city  cannot 
take  a  quite  unselfish  view  of  your  removal.  Although  I  felt 
well  convinced  that  you  would  leave  us  if  the  call  of  duty  came 
with  sufficient  clearness  and  emphasis,  the  definite  acceptance  of 
the  idea  of  separation  is  not  perhaps  the  less  painful  on  that 
account.  You  had  come  to  work  so  good  an  influence  amongst 
us — our  Church,  our  municipal  life — our  external  life  altogether 
were  feeling  more  and  more  the  benefit  of  your  zealous  work 
for  truth  and  high  principle,  that  to  those  of  us  who  know  how 
much  this  goodly  city  needs  the  comfort  of  such  influences,  your 
removal  is  more  than  ordinary  painful. 

As  to  the  High  school,  I  do  not  quite  know  where  we  are  to 
look  for  the  steadfast  faith  and  enthusiasm  with  which  you  began 
and  have  carried  on  that  great  work  to  its  perfect  end.  That,  how- 
ever, will  remain  as  a  link  still  to  connect  Lincoln  with  Worcester. 
Of  course  to  very  many  of  us  your  removal  will  mean  a  sharper 
wrench  still,  because  a  personal  one.  Those  who  have  been 
permitted,  as  I  have,  to  a  share  of  your  deep,  loving,  and  affec- 
tionate sympathy,  and  know  how  great  that  sympathy  was  even 
for  one's  everyday  difficulties,  will  continue  to  hope  that  you  have 
been  long  enough  with  us  to  leave,  when  you  go,  some  portion  of 
your  large  heart  behind. 

And  to  the  no  less  deep  and  lasting  impression 


i88s  INSTALLED    DEAN    OF   LINCOLN  317 

made  upon  the  clergy  of  the  diocese,  touching  testi- 
mony was  borne  after  his  death  nearly  nine  years 
later,  when  an  eye-witness  related  how  "  at  the 
Diocesan  Societies'  meeting  one  after  another  got  up 
to  express  a  sense  of  deep  personal  loss,  and  of  the 
blessing  he  had  been  to  Worcester." 

He  was  installed  Dean  at  Lincoln,  15th  July, 
1885,  and  on  the  26th  November  following  was 
made  D.D.  at  Cambridge,  jure  dignitatis,  as  he 
considered  that  for  the  dignity  of  the  cathedral  the 
Dean  should  hold  that  degree,  and  therefore  took  it 
as  a  matter  of  principle. 


CHAPTER   XL 
LINCOLN. 

[THE  REV.  A.  R.  MADDISON,  Priest- Vicar  in  Lincoln 
Cathedral,  who  from  the  earliest  days  of  William 
Butler's  residence  in  Lincoln  was  thrown  much  into 
contact  with  him,  has  contributed  the  greater  part 
of  the  chapters  dealing  with  the  last  nine  years  of 
the  Dean's  life.] 

Dean  Butler  came  from  a  Cathedral  of  the  new 
foundation  to  a  Cathedral  of  the  old.  After  a  life 
spent  in  a  country  parish  he  had  in  1881  found 
himself  in  a  Cathedral  city  where  he  had  much  to 
learn.  As  Canon  of  Worcester  he  threw  himself 
heartily  into  every  work,  and  made  it  his  business 
to  draw  city  and  Cathedral  together.  At  Lincoln 
he  found  another  Cathedral  with  a  different  history 
and  character.  He  found  himself  invested  with 
authority  as  Dean,  but  with  no  one  able  to  say 
precisely  to  what  limits  the  authority  extended.  His 
very  residence  as  Dean  was  undefined.  Eight 
months  in  the  year  he  was  bound  to  be  resident, 
but  the  terms  of  the  residence  were  not  stated. 

There  are  topographical  difficulties  too  at  Lincoln 
which  have  been  generally  cited  as  obstacles  to  any 


i885  CITY  AND   CATHEDRAL  319 

cordial  unanimity  between  the  Cathedral  and  the 
city.  *  Above '  and  '  Below  hill '  are  terms  sig- 
nificant of  a  line  of  demarcation  and  two  populations. 
The  Cathedral  has  no  parochial  jurisdiction.  The 
city  itself,  although  the  capital  of  the  county,  is  very 
unfavourably  situated  as  a  centre.  The  service  of 
trains  is  not  convenient.  Proud  as  Lincolnshire 
people  might  be  of  their  Minster,  they  certainly 
did  not  regard  Lincoln  as  a  Yorkshireman  does  York. 
Grantham,  Boston,  Stamford,  and  Louth  had  their 
separate  interests  and  agencies.  The  Cathedral 
clergy  were  looked  upon  by  the  parochial  clergy  as 
separate  from  themselves.  The  Cathedral  services 
might  be  admired  for  their  musical  effect,  but  any 
attempt  to  represent  the  Cathedral  as  a  spiritual 
force  and  activity  would  have  been  received  some 
few  years  ago  with  a  smile. 

Dean  Butler  came  with  the  heart  and  the  lifelong 
experience  of  a  parish  priest.  His  great  aim  and 
object  was  to  utilise  the  machinery  he  found  ready 
to  his  hand.  He  found  a  vast  Cathedral  with  only 
one  Celebration  of  Holy  Communion  on  a  Sunday, 
closed  and  unused  from  five  P.M.  on  Sunday  to  the 
following  morning,  and  one  of  the  very  first  things 
he  did  was  to  provide  an  early  as  well  as  a  late 
Celebration  every  Sunday.  He  never  rested  till  he 
established  a  Sunday  evening  service.  His  parochial 
instinct  showed  itself  in  the  care  he  bestowed  on  the 
workmen  employed  in  the  Cathedral.  He  sought 
them  out  and  brought  them  to  Confirmation  and 
the  Holy  Communion.  He  was  in  thorough  sym- 


320  LINCOLN  1885- 

pathy  with  the  parochial  clergy.  He  made  it  known 
that  he  would  be  always  willing,  if  he  possibly 
could,  to  help  those  who  were  hard  pressed  on 
Sundays.  He  did  all  he  could  to  bring  together 
the  Cathedral  and  the  city.  He  cultivated  friendly 
relations  with  the  leading  citizens,  and  threw  him- 
self heartily  into  the  welfare  of  institutions  such  as 
the  School  of  Art,  which  he  held  to  be  a  valuable 
influence  on  the  manners  and  characters  of  the  people. 
He  was  never  deterred  by  religious  or  political 
differences  from  co-operating  in  any  good  work  with 
those  who  were  not  like-minded  with  himself,  and  he 
earned  the  title  which  was  given  him,  in  a  letter 
written  after  his  death,  of  a  '  kindly  citizen.' 

Education,  it  is  needless  to  say,  still  occupied  his 
thoughts,  as  it  had  all  his  life,  and  he  took  the 
deepest  interest  in  the  Grammar  school,  and  also 
in  the  school  where  the  Cathedral  choir  boys  were 
taught  and  boarded. 

So  much  may  be  taken  as  a  sort  of  summary  of 
Dean  Butler's  life  at  Lincoln,  but  no  one  could  gather 
from  it  a  true  conception  of  the  work  he  was  engaged 
in.  What  one  of  his  colleagues  said  of  him  shortly 
after  his  death  is  literally  true  :  "  The  Dean  has  lived 
another  life  and  done  another  work."  While  he 
worked  hard  as  Dean  of  Lincoln,  he  was  working 
equally  hard  as  head  of  a  great  religious  organisation, 
the  Wantage  Sisterhood.  And  the  work  involved 
in  this  it  is  difficult  to  estimate.  Hardly  a  day 
passed  without  bringing  him  letters  connected  with 
it.  His  frequent  journeys  to  Wantage  and  to  other 


1893  POSITION   OF   THE   DEAN  321 

places  where  branches  of  the  Sisterhood  were  estab- 
lished, of  which  we  used  sometimes  to  complain, 
as  they  took  him  so  much  away  from  Lincoln,  were 
enough  to  have  taxed  the  strength  of  a  younger 
man.  How  he  did  it,  how  he  contrived  to  preserve 
his  wonderful  vigour  and  freshness  through  it  all, 
will  ever  be  a  marvel. 

In  trying  to  give  a  sketch  of  his  Lincoln  life,  I  am 
obliged  to  put  it  mainly  into  the  form  of  personal 
reminiscences.  Circumstances  threw  me  much  in  his 
company,  and  the  materials  are  lacking  for  a  syste- 
matic detailed  account,  for  there  are  not  so  many 
letters  available  for  biographical  purposes  as  in  the 
earlier  part  of  his  life. 

He  found  a  good  deal  to  do  on  coming  to  Lincoln, 
for  he  had  his  own  opinion  as  to  what  a  Cathedral 
should  be,  and  Lincoln  fell  very  short  of  it. 

But  his  powers  were  limited.  He  indeed  in- 
herited great  traditional  prestige  as  Dean  of  Lincoln  ; 
but  he  found  that  practically  he  had  only  the 
power  to  obstruct.  He  could  not  initiate  any  legis- 
lation for  the  Cathedral  without  the  unanimous  con- 
sent of  his  colleagues,  although  he  could  effectually 
stop  any  himself.  Such  was  the  change  from  the 
mediaeval  Dean  whose  title  was  Dominus  Decanus, 
and  who  enjoyed  the  privilege  of  a  train-bearer 
within  the  close,  to  the  modern  Dean  whose  rights 
(as  he  was  informed  before  leaving  Worcester)  were 
merely  '  those  which  the  Common  Law  gave  him.' 

A  letter  from  one  of  his  oldest  and  most  intimate 
friends,  who  happened  to  spend  a  Sunday  at  Lincoln 


322  LINCOLN  1885- 

shortly  before  Dean  Butler  took  up  his  residence 
there,  somewhat  prepared  him  for  what  he  would 
find.  It  is  full  of  good  humoured  criticism,  and 
after  detailing  various  points  where  improvements 
seemed  needful,  it  sums  up  with  the  remark  that 
"  the  worshipping  arrangements  of  the  congregation 
seriously  cry  out  for  the  application  of  a  little  good 
feeling  and  common  sense." 

Dean  Butler  could  not  but  be  struck  with  the 
poverty  and  meagre  decorations  of  the  altar,  coming 
as  he  did  from  Worcester,  where  costly  gifts  had 
been  offered  for  the  sanctuary.  Certainly  Lincoln 
Cathedral  could  not  match  with  any  ordinary  well- 
cared-for  parish  church.  There  was  but  one  altar 
cloth,  a  red  one,  which  did  duty  all  the  year  round. 
The  altar  table  itself  was  a  poor  thing,  furnished 
merely  with  two  brass  candlesticks  containing  candles 
which  were  never  lighted.  A  sanctuary  carpet 
worked  by  ladies  of  the  county  in  1847,  could  not 
be  termed  a  thing  of  beauty,  although  age  had  toned 
down  the  brilliancy  of  its  colours. 

The  altar  rails  had  been  moved  eastward  from 
their  original  position  in  order  to  give  more  sitting 
accommodation,  but  with  the  result  that  the  space 
within  the  sanctuary  was  cramped  and  confined.  It 
cannot  be  wondered  at  that  he  felt  the  change,  or 
that  his  first  Christmas  Day  was  not  a  very  happy 
one.  He  saw  much  he  wished  to  alter,  and  the 
question  was  how  it  could  be  done. 

I  may  here  without  impropriety  say  that  the  Dean 
always  bore  cordial  witness  to  the  kindness  of  his 


1893  INNOVATIONS  323 

colleagues,  without  whose  consent  no  change  could 
have  been  effected.  The  changes  were  considerable, 
not  only  in  minor  details  such  as  have  been  enumer- 
ated, but  also  in  the  multiplication  of  services. 

The  Sunday  evening  service  at  6.30  was  one  of 
the  principal  changes.  This  he  set  his  heart  on  from 
the  very  first.  He  had  found  it  at  Worcester  and 
was  resolved  to  have  it  at  Lincoln.  He  made  him- 
self absolutely  responsible  for  the  expenses  connected 
with  it,  and  although  fortunately  the  offertories 
covered  the  greater  part  of  the  cost,  leaving  him 
only  a  small  amount  to  defray,  it  is  well  that  this 
should  be  known  for  he  did  not  speak  about  it. 
Neither  should  it  be  forgotten  that,  so  far  from  using 
the  Cathedral  pulpit  on  Sunday  evenings  for  the 
display  of  his  own  preaching  powers,  he  only  re- 
served one  Sunday  in  each  month  for  himself, 
leaving  the  lion's  share  to  the  canon  in  resi- 
dence. 

As  hard  things  were  said  about  him  which  he 
did  not  deserve,  I  think  it  only  just  to  let  this  also 
be  known.  Undoubtedly  the  Sunday  evening  service 
was  an  innovation,  and  it  was  only  natural  that  it 
should  affect  at  first  the  congregations  of  parish 
churches  which  had  hitherto  had  Sunday  evening 
entirely  to  themselves ;  but  he  could  not  accept  this 
as  a  valid  reason  why  the  Cathedral  should  be  shut 
up  for  so  many  hours  when  multitudes  could  be 
attracted  by  a  bright  musical  service  in  the  nave. 
He  argued  that  the  ordinary  steady  church-going 
people  would  not  desert  their  parish  churches,  while 


324  LINCOLN  1885- 

the  shifting  element  of  congregations  might  just  as 
well  be  drawn  to  the  Cathedral. 

Of  course  this  multiplication  of  services  entailed 
increased  work  on  the  executive  staff.  The  Celebra- 
tions of  Holy  Communion  were  much  more  frequent. 
He  was  himself  entirely  responsible  for  the  one  at 
seven  A.M.  on  the  great  festivals  and  the  first  Sunday 
of  each  month,  and  it  was  my  privilege  to  be  able 
to  assist  him,  as  it  did  not  in  any  way  interfere 
with  my  own  parochial  duty.  I  have  often  thought 
that  those  who  saw  him  then  saw  him  at  his  best. 
The  congregation  was  one  after  his  own  heart,  mainly 
composed  of  workmen  employed  in  the  Cathedral, 
and  domestic  servants  within  the  close ;  and  none 
who  was  present  can  forget  the  wonderful  earnest- 
ness with  which  he  used  to  give  a  short  address 
immediately  after  the  Nicene  Creed  on  these  occa- 
sions ;  words  full  of  pith  and  vigour,  driven  home 
into  the  hearts  of  his  hearers,  uttered  without  notes, 
and  yet  always  concise  and  connected.  Once  a 
quarter  the  Church  of  England  Working  Men's 
Society  used  to  attend  and  swell  the  numbers 
very  considerably,  yet  all  would  be  over  before  eight 
o'clock,  when  a  Celebration  followed  at  the  altar  in 
the  choir. 

He  was  wonderfully  rapid  in  his  utterance,  and  yet 
perfectly  distinct  and  reverent.  On  one  occasion 
when  by  accident  he  was  alone  at  the  seven  o'clock 
Celebration  and  there  were  more  than  seventy 
communicants,  he  had  concluded  the  service  by 
eight. 


1893  SHORTER   SERVICES  325 

Another  addition  he  made  to  the  services  was  a 
short  address  on  Saints'  days  and  festivals  given 
after  evensong  in  the  retrochoir.  The  last  words 
he  ever  uttered  in  the  Cathedral  were  heard  at  one 
of  these  a  few  days  before  his  death.  But  one 
change  which  he  effected  after  he  had  been  at 
Lincoln  some  little  time,  brought  upon  him  a  good 
deal  of  censure,  although  his  object  was  simply  to 
relieve  the  clergy  and  people  from  what  was  thought 
a  wearisome  length  of  service.  On  Sundays  matins 
in  the  Cathedral  choir  consisted  of  course  of  a  full 
choral  service,  with  anthem,  litany,  and  introit,  and 
a  sermon,  which,  preached  by  a  prebendary  in  his 
turn,  did  not  as  a  rule  incline  to  brevity ;  then  a 
Celebration  of  Holy  Communion.  Frequently  the 
clock  struck  twelve  before  the  Nicene  Creed  was 
finished,  and  very  often  a  congregation  which  went 
in  at  half-past  ten  did  not  leave  the  Cathedral  till 
past  one.  The  question  arose  how  it  could  be 
shortened.  No  one  had  the  power  to  limit  the 
sermon,  and  the  precentor  was  expected  to  provide 
on  Sundays  a  musical  service  superior  to  those  on 
ordinary  week  days,  and  consequently  of  greater 
length. 

Dean  Butler  thereupon  proposed  to  remove  the 
litany  from  the  morning  to  the  afternoon,  and  in 
place  of  evensong  at  four  in  the  choir,  to  have  the 
litany  with  an  anthem  and  hymn  at  that  hour  in 
the  nave.  He  contended  that  as  evensong  was  now 
sung  in  the  nave  at  half-past  six,  it  was  not  needful 
to  have  it  as  well  in  the  choir  at  four.  Of  course 


326  LINCOLN 

the  removal  of  the  litany,  and  having  the  shortened 
form  of  matins,  ending  at  the  third  collect,  greatly 
reduced  the  length  of  the  services,  but  the  Dean 
came  in  for  a  considerable  amount  of  censure  ;  he 
was  accused  of  creating  *  fancy  services,'  which 
any  one  who  knew  him  would  know  was  the  last 
thing  he  was  likely  to  do.  Many  who  had  repeatedly 
cried  out  against  the  length  of  the  morning  service 
now  affected  to  regard  the  disappearance  of  the 
four  o'clock  evensong  as  a  positive  spiritual  priva- 
tion, and  remonstrances,  not  always  of  the  gentlest 
nature,  poured  in  upon  him.  He  however  held 
firm  to  his  purpose  and  effected  it,  though  the  oppo- 
sition surprised  him,  and  seemed  to  him,  considering 
the  circumstances,  unreasonable. 

I  have  dwelt  rather  at  length  on  these  points, 
because  they  illustrate  Dean  Butler's  mind  as  regards 
the  use  of  Cathedrals.  He  was  never  weary  of  saying 
that  in  these  days  public  opinion  would  not  tolerate 
such  institutions  unless  they  were  put  to  a  thorough 
practical  use.  He  was  much  amused,  and  I  think 
rather  gratified,  to  hear  that  some  one  had  compared 
Lincoln  Cathedral  on  Sundays  to  Clapham  Junction, 
on  account  of  the  rapid  succession  of  services ;  and  in 
a  letter  to  the  Spectator,  in  answer  to  a  rather  deprec- 
iatory criticism  of  Deans  and  Cathedrals,  he  says  : 

In  one  Cathedral  with  which  I  am  best  acquainted  the  Sunday 
services  are  as  follows :  Holy  Communion,  eight ;  matins,  followed 
by  Holy  Communion  and  sermon,  10.30;  sermon  without  sen-ice, 
three;  litany  and  anthem,  four;  evensong  and  sermon,  6.30. 
I  do  not  see  how  much  more  than  this  can  be  got  into  the  day. 


1893  GIFTS   TO   THE   CATHEDRAL 


327 


Something  must  be  said  of  the  wonderful  trans- 
formation which  he  effected  in  the  appearance  of  the 
sanctuary.  Any  one  who  can  recall  the  former 
condition  of  things  will  appreciate  the  change.  He 
never  rested  till  a  more  suitable  and  dignified  altar 
had  been  set  up,1  and  by  degrees  he  procured  a  set 
of  frontals  for  the  different  seasons,  as  well  as  a 
proper  supply  of  altar  linen.  Personal  gifts  came 
in,  such  as  vases  and  candlesticks,  and  the  students 
of  the  Bishop's  Hostel  gave  a  splendid  cross.  The 
altar  rails  were  moved  westward  to  their  original 
position,  and  Persian  carpets  took  the  place  of  the 
ladies'  handiwork,  which  now  is  in  the  Lady  Chapel 
at  the  east  end  of  the  retrochoir.  He  used  some- 
times to  reckon  up  with  positive  glee  the  cost  of  the 
various  gifts  and  improvements,  and  rejoice  that 
there  was  nothing  now  mean,  cheap,  or  shabby  in 
the  adornment  of  the  sanctuary.  One  more  change 
must  be  mentioned,  for  it  was  very  characteristic 
of  him.  He  noticed  that  the  prebendaries  and 
priest-vicars  very  seldom  had  an  opportunity  of 
celebrating  the  Holy  Communion,  and,  indeed,  up 
to  his  coming  their  services  were  not  likely  to  be 
required  by  a  Dean  and  four  residentiary  Canons 
when  there  was  only  one  Celebration  on  a  Sunday. 
He  therefore  arranged  for  a  weekly  Celebration  on 
Thursdays  at  eight  A.M.,  for  which  a  rota  of  pre- 
bendaries and  priest-vicars  was  responsible.  This 

aThe  new  altar  was  set  in  its  place  on  February  10,  1888,  and 
he  came  into  the  Deanery  saying  he  had  kept  his  seventieth  birthday 
by  helping  the  workmen  to  lift  up  the  great  marble  slab. 


328  LINCOLN  1885- 

was  held  at  the  altar  under  the  great  east  window 
in  the  Lady  Chapel,  and  he  never  missed  attending 
it  if  in  Lincoln,  as  a  simple  worshipper  in  his 
cassock,  only  putting  on  a  surplice  when  his  services 
were  needed. 

Turning  from  the  Cathedral  to  the  city,  it  will  be 
well  to  hear  Canon  Fowler's  recollections,  who,  as 
head  master  of  the  Lincoln  Grammar  school,  was 
frequently  brought  in  contact  with  the  Dean. 

Dean  Butler  was  singularly  happy  in  his  relations  with  the 
citizens  of  Lincoln  of  all  denominations ;  that  Church  people 
should  have  looked  up  to  him,  and  not  only  reverenced  him, 
but  loved  him,  is  natural ;  but  the  affectionate  regard  for  his 
memory  which  has  been,  and  is  now  shown  by  the  non- 
comformists  of  the  city,  speaks,  as  nothing  else  could  speak; 
of  that  true  charity  and  willingness  to  recognise  good  work 
of  any  kind,  which  were  among  the  noticeable  traits  of  his 
character.  No  man  could  have  been  a  more  staunch  upholder 
of  Church  principles,  no  man  could  have  been  more  opposed 
to  the  spirit  of  Dissent,  but  he  knew  exactly  where  to  draw 
the  line,  and  kept  strictly  to  it.  While,  on  the  one  hand,  he 
abstained  from  anything  that  might  seem  in  the  least  degree 
an  yielding  of  a  vital  point,  while  he  was  quite  ready  to  maintain 
his  views  in  language  which  from  its  evident  sincerity  and 
the  kindness  of  its  expression,  never  gave  permanent  offence ; 
yet  on  the  other,  he  avoided  that  petty  and  vexatious  opposi- 
tion which  tends  so  largely  to  embitter  the  relations  between 
Churchmen  and  Dissenters.  Perhaps  in  the  city  of  Lincoln  he 
found  this  an  easier  matter  than  he  might  have  done  elsewhere, 
for  there  are  few  towns  in  which  the  members  of  various 
denominations  are  more  inclined  to  'agree  to  differ,'  and  to 
live  together  in  a  friendly  spirit;  this  is,  in  great  measure, 
due  to  the  veneration  felt  by  all  for  the  Minster,  which  is 
regarded  by  the  whole  body  of  citizens  as  belonging  personally 
to  each  individual,  and  to  be,  as  it  were,  outside  the  region  of 
denominationalism ;  partly,  perhaps  we  may  allow,  it  was  this 
very  feeling  that  drew  Dean  Butler  towards  the  nonconformists, 


1893  CANON  FOWLER'S  RECOLLECTIONS  329 

for  to  love  the  Minster,  and  to  take  an  interest  in  its  services, 
was  a  sure  way  to  his  heart;  but  on  the  other  hand  it  must 
not  be  forgotten  that  it  was  Dean  Butler's  own  action  in 
extending  the  usefulness  of  the  Minster  by  establishing  the 
largely-attended  evening  services,  and  by  the  personal  interest 
which  he  took  in  the  congregations  as  shown  by  his  strong, 
direct  yet  simple  sermons,  that  largely  increased  the  affectionate 
feelings  of  the  citizens  towards  the  Cathedral. 

As  an  instance  of  what  has  been  said  above,  we  may  perhaps 
mention  the  lecture  on  'Alfred  the  Great,'  which  he  delivered 
to  a  nonconformist  audience  at  the  hall  attached  to  the  Newland 
Independent  Chapel,  which  was  very  much  appreciated  by  those 
who  heard  it,  both  on  account  of  its  interest,  and  still  more 
perhaps  on  account  of  the  kindly  spirit  in  which  it  was  given. 

Dean  Butler  took  a  leading  part  in  the  erection  of  the  present 
Lincoln  School  of  Science  and  Art,  and  also  in  the  Lincolnshire 
Exhibition  in  the  Jubilee  year,  which  accompanied  its  opening ; 
and  he  was  also  a  strong  supporter  of  the  Free  Library  movement 
which  has  been  since  crowned  with  success.  While  at  Wantage 
he  always  took  a  great  interest  in  the  Volunteer  movement,  and 
for  many  years  he  was  chaplain  to  the  Berkshire  Volunteers ; 
he  continued  this  interest  at  Lincoln,  and  used  regularly  to 
entertain  the  officers  of  the  Lincoln  companies,  with  whom  he 
was  very  popular. 

In"  all  matters  connected  with  the  education  of  the  city  he 
was  always  to  the  fore,  and  it  need  hardly  be  said  how  strongly 
he  felt  with  regard  to  the  maintenance  of  the  voluntary  system ; 
had  he  lived,  nothing  would  have  given  him  greater  pleasure 
than  the  successful  issue  of  the  efforts  of  the  Subdean  and  the 
educational  committee,  by  which  we  may  hope  that  the 
voluntary  system  has  been  preserved  for  Lincoln  for  many 
years  to  come. 

At  no  time  in  the  history  of  the  city  have  the  relations 
between  the  corporation  and  the  Cathedral  been  more  satis- 
factory ;  this  has  by  no  means  always  been  the  case,  for  at 
times  in  the  past  the  feelings  of  the  two  bodies  towards  each 
other  have  been  unequivocally  hostile.  Dean  Butler,  in  his 
speeches  as  well  as  by  his  action,  always  emphasised  the 
necessity  of  the  preservation  of  amicable  relations  between  the 
Minster  and  the  civic  authorities.  It  has  been  said  that  it 


330  LINCOLN  1885- 

was  he  who  initiated  the  desirable  state  of  affairs  which  exists 
at  present;  this  is  hardly  true,  for  much  was  done  by  the 
late  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  when  Chancellor,  and  by  other 
members  of  the  Chapter,  and  the  two  bodies  have  been  for 
years  drawing  closer  together.  There  can,  however,  be  no 
doubt  that  by  his  geniality  and  straightforwardness  he  helped 
very  greatly  to  remove  any  old  feelings  of  soreness,  and  that 
it  is  to  the  late  Dean  and  to  the  present  Bishop  that  the 
mutual  regard  now  existing  between  the  Cathedral  and  the 
city  is  largely  due. 

Much  more  might  be  said  with  regard  to  Dean  Butler's 
public  connexion  with  the  citizens  of  Lincoln;  nothing  failed 
to  interest  him  and  call  forth  his  support,  which  appeared  to 
him  as  likely  to  benefit  the  city  of  his  adoption.  We  must  not, 
however,  forget  his  private  relations  with  individuals  ;  he  had 
a  keen  eye  for  character,  and  any  man  who  did  his  work  as 
he  ought,  whether  with  hand  or  head,  was  made  to  feel  that 
he  had  a  friend  to  whom  he  might  go  for  help  and  advice  at 
any  time.  How  people  of  all  sorts  and  conditions  regarded 
him  was  clearly  shown  at  his  funeral,  at  which  the  Minster 
was  crowded  with  high  and  low,  rich  and  poor,  who  by  their 
evident  sorrow  expressed  the  deep  sense  of  personal  loss  which 
was  felt  by  all  with  whom  he  had  been  brought  at  all  closely 
into  contact.  In  this  short  notice,  it  is  not  for  me  to  speak 
of  the  inner  life  of  the  Deanery;  but  the  kindly  hospitality 
and  warm  welcome  ever  accorded  by  the  Dean  and  his  family, 
are  still  fresh  in  the  hearts  of  many.  A  Cathedral  city  is 
always  reputed  to  be  exclusive,  and  it  was  one  of  the  late 
Dean's  great  desires  to  break  this  exclusiveness  down,  and  to 
bring  people  more  closely  together. 

As  I  am  only  touching  briefly  upon  a  partial  side  of  the 
Dean's  life  in  Lincoln,  I  must  not  write  more.  All  through 
his  life,  in  things  secular  as  well  as  sacred,  his  watchword 
was  '  Thorough ' ;  wherever  he  found  thoroughness  and  sincerity, 
he  was  ever  ready  to  recognise  and  encourage  good  work,  even 
though  he  might  not  agree  with  the  result  aimed  at;  hence 
his  success  in  dealing  with  his  parishioners  and  his  fellow- 
townsmen.  Whatsoever  his  hand  found  to  do,  he  did  it  with 
his  might ;  yet  with  his  simple  rugged  and  loving  nature,  he 
if  any  man,  felt  that  the  might  was  that  of  his  Lord  and 


1893  HOLIDAYS    ABROAD  331 

Master,  and  that  the  smallest   as  well  as  the  greatest  efforts 
of  his  life  were  dependent  upon  Him  alone. 

I  have  said  that  letters  illustrating  Dean  Butler's 
life  at  Lincoln  are  not  so  plentiful  as  at  other  periods. 
His  work  of  course  was  very  different  from  that  at 
Wantage,  and  he  had  not  so  much  to  construct  as  to 
quicken  and  stimulate.  His  great  refreshment  was 
his  annual  six  weeks'  holiday,  which  until  the  last 
year  of  his  life  he  spent  abroad.  He  enjoyed  travel- 
ling intensely.  Nothing  seemed  to  escape  his  eye ; 
and  on  looking  through  his  letters  written  to  me 
during  these  tours  I  am  astonished  at  the  wonderful 
descriptive  power  displayed,  as  well  as  the  minuteness 
of  detail. 

In  August,  1886,  he  wTote  from  Tyrol,  and  after 
telling  me  that  "so  far  all  is  better  than  well," 
he  adds,  "  We  have  many  a  good  laugh  to  help 
digestion,  and  no  lack  of  topics  for  conversation. 
We  could  not  stand  '  table  d'h6te '  meals,  and  gene- 
rally contrive  to  get  a  separate  table,  where  good 
behaviour  is  not  '  de  rigueur.' ' 

I  think  that  the  Dean's  light-heartedness  helped 
to  keep  him  so  fresh  through  his  laborious  life.  A 
holiday  to  him  was  a  real  pleasure.  I  remember  the 
first  Easter  Monday  he  was  at  Lincoln,  how  he 
enjoyed  giving  himself  a  holiday  from  his  letters, 
and  making  a  complete  tour  of  the  Cathedral — an 
enjoyment  as  simple  and  unaffected  as  that  of  a 
schoolboy  released  from  lessons. 

In  July  and  August,  1887,  he  wrote  from  Switzer- 
land. He  was  staying  for  a  week  or  two  at  Vevey, 


332  LINCOLN  1885- 

which  he  found  "  very  hot"  and  the  "  air  oppressive  " ; 
and,  he  adds,  "  religion  in  these  parts  seems  to  be 
quite  a  secondary  matter,  very  unlike  Tyrol  where 
churches  and  shrines  meet  you  everywhere.  Protest- 
antism is  entirely  dead  in  Germany  and  Switzerland." 

Shortly  after,  he  writes  from  Grindelwald.  I 
suppose  that  I  had  been  mentioning  some  plan  of 
going  abroad  early  in  the  following  year,  for  he  says, 
"  I  hope  that  you  will  be  able  to  make  your  visit 
to  Pau  after  Christmas,  so  long  as  you  clear  Lent. 
Perhaps  I  am  over-sensitive  about  Lent  and  Holy 
Week.  But  it  always  appears  to  me  inconsistent 
with  our  profession  as  priests  to  be  larking  about 
the  world  and  amusing  ourselves  at  these  special 
times.  My  practice  has  always  been — one  good 
holiday.  Five  Sundays  was  the  length  of  my  tether 
once  a  year,  and  perhaps  a  little  run,  the  inside  of 
a  week,  in  the  form  of  a  visit  to  my  mother  or 
some  relations,  after  Christmas  and  Easter,  when  I  was 
tolerably  used  up." 

In  May,  1889,  he  wrote  from  Florence:  "We 
eased  our  journey  by  stopping  at  Laon,  which  is 
reached  at  7.30  P.M.  There  is  a  good  deal  to  see 
there  of  one  or  other  kind,  and  Mr.  Waddington, 
the  French  Ambassador,  whom  I  had  met  there 
before,  took  us  into  the  French  Conseil  General  of 
the  Department,  which  is  interesting  just  now  when 
we  are  introducing  the  same  system  into  England. 
The  speakers,  to  my  surprise,  were  much  quieter 
than  our  folk,  and  delivered  their  sentiments  sitting. 
It  was  frightfully  dull." 


1893  A   SERIOUS   ACCIDENT  333 

In  the  spring  of  1890  he  wrote  to  me  from  Siena 
and  Florence.  He  delighted  in  the  pictures,  especi- 
ally those  of  the  Sienese  school,  and  says,  "  I  still 
enjoy  the  Sienese  painters'  reverence  and  simplicity, 
and  I  seem  to  learn  more  from  this  school  than  from 
any  other.  But  it  cannot  be  denied  that  in  force  and 
colouring  the  Florentines  have  the  palm." 

He  visited  Pisa  and  its  Campo  Santo,  Cathedral, 
and  Leaning  Tower,  "  up  which  I  clambered  for  the 
first  time." 

He  ends  his  letter :  "  Will  you  kindly  look  in  at 
the  Deanery  some  day  and  see  how  my  old  butler 
is.  I  heard  a  poor  account  of  him,  and  I  am  always 
afraid  of  his  passing  away  without  spiritual  help." 
This  was  Charles  Page,  an  old  servant  to  whom  the 
Dean  was  much  attached.  He  was  in  his  service  as  a 
youth  before  the  Dean  went  to  Wantage.  He  died 
within  a  few  months  of  completing  fifty  years  of  faith- 
ful service,  the  year  before  the  death  of  his  master, 
who  was  away  from  Lincoln  at  the  time,  and  I  was 
sent  for  to  minister  to  him.  The  Dean  returned  just 
in  time  to  see  him  still  alive  and  conscious. 

In  April,  1891,  the  Dean  met  with  a  serious 
accident.  He  had  arranged  to  go  abroad  directly 
after  Easter  with  two  of  his  daughters.  They  were 
at  the  Charing  Cross  station,  their  tickets  taken,  and 
everything  ready  for  a  start.  The  Dean  had  gone 
to  a  book  shop  in  the  neighbourhood,  and  while  re- 
turning to  the  station  was  knocked  down  by  a  cab 
and  had  his  left  arm  broken.  It  is  very  characteristic 
of  him  that  directly  he  rose  from  the  ground  he  said, 


334  LINCOLN  1885- 

"  Take  that  man's  number."  He  at  once  told  them 
to  take  him  to  the  nearest  hospital,  where  his  daugh- 
ters found  him  shortly  after.  It  was  a  severe  dis- 
appointment to  be  balked  of  his  pleasant  holiday, 
but  he  was  not  one  who  fretted  against  the  inevit- 
able. The  following  letters  (written  in  pencil)  to 
Sir  Charles  Anderson,  an  old  friend  whom  he  greatly 
valued,  and  to  his  sister,  describe  the  situation  : 

CHARING  CROSS  HOSPITAL,  April  10,  1891. 

MY  VERY  DEAR  AND  KIND  SlR  CHARLES, — This  is  only  the 
fourth  letter  that  I  have  attempted  to  achieve,  so  that  you  will 
understand  that  it  was  from  necessity  or  incapacity  only  that 
your  very  kind  letter  has  been  so  long  left  unanswered.  It 
cheered  me  very  much.  This  is  a  strange,  but  really  not  an 
unpleasant  experience.  The  kindness  and  skill  of  the  doctors 
and  nurses  are  quite  extraordinary.  I  tell  every  one  that  I 
have  fallen  into  a  nest  of  angels.  I  have  comparatively  little 
pain,  and  all  the  arrangements  here  are  of  the  best  kind.  I 
have  a  very  pleasant  private  room,  and  Mrs.  Butler  and  my 
daughters  are  here  the  greatest  part  of  the  day.  Many  old 
friends  visit  me,  and  on  the  whole  I  begin  to  think  myself 
rather  a  humbug,  as  if  I  had  invited  the  accident  for  the 
purpose  of  extracting  sympathy.  But  I  must  own  that  to  find 
oneself  with  the  heels  of  a  horse  close  to  one's  head,  and  the 
wheel  of  a  hansom  cab  close  to  one's  body,  is  not  a  delightful 
situation." 

W.  J.  B.  TO  HIS  SISTER. 

THE  HOSPITAL,  CHARING  CROSS,  April  16,  1891. 

It  seems  unnatural  not  to  have  written  to  you  before,  but 
I  write  under  difficulties — and  one  long  stream  of  kind  friends, 
day  after  day,  have  absorbed  the  time. 

This  is  a  strange  reversal  of  hopes  and  plans,  but  I  do  not 
grudge  it,  for  it  has  brought  me  into  contact  with  a  whole 
body  of  the  kindest  and  most  unselfish  people  that  I  ever  met. 
This  hospital  is  very  well  managed,  and  there  is  a  tone  of 
refinement  everywhere,  from  the  splendid  woman  who  commands 


1893  IN    THE    HOSPITAL  335 

the  institution  down  to  the  youngest  probationer.  The  surgeons 
too  are,  I  believe,  considered  very  skilful,  and  most  attentive. 
So  that  all  things  considered  I  have  every  reason  to  be  very 
thankful.  I  have  moreover  a  very  pleasant  room,  and  so  many 
flowers  arrive  that  I  am  able  to  benefit  some  of  my  neighbours. 

Still  of  course  this  must  be  a  long  affair.  I  allow  four 
months  before  I  am  able  to  enjoy  life  once  more.  At  present  I 
cannot  unbutton  a  wristband,  crack  an  egg,  or  wind  up  a 
watch. 

We  hope  to  settle  ourselves  on  Monday  at  19  Sussex 
Gardens.  One  of  the  nurses  goes  with  us,  for  without  such 

help  I  can  do  nothing.  My  arm  is  in  a  plaster  of  Paris  case a 

most  unpleasant  experience.  .  .  . 

I  saw  him  in  the  hospital,  and  he  was  full  of 
interest  in  the  nurses  and  their  spiritual  welfare. 
He  was  giving  copies  of  the  Christian  Year  to 
some,  and  spoke  with  the  utmost  warmth  of  the 
kindness  he  had  met  with  from  the  hospital  staff. 
After  he  left  the  hospital  he  wrote  a  letter  to  the 
Times,  strongly  urging  the  claims  of  the  hospital 
for  support. 

I  received  what  he  calls  his  "  first  ink- written 
letter,"  dated  April  27.  He  had  moved  into  a 
friend's  house,  and  although  his  arm  did  not  then 
pain  him  so  much,  he  suffered  much  from  coughing 
at  night ;  but  he  adds,  "  Certainly  I  have  that 
solace  which  Shakespeare  suggests  for  old  age,  'troops 
of  friends.' " 

His  delayed  holiday  was  taken  in  August.  He 
went  to  Normandy,  and  I  had  letters  from  him 
from  Rouen,  Bayeux,  and  Falaise. 

Writing  from  Rouen,  August  10,  he  says : 

It    is    very    amusing   to    me   to    find   myself  here.     In   the 


336  LINCOLN  1885- 

year  1840  I  came  to  this  place,  having  just  taken  my  degree, 
when  railways  were  almost  unknown  on  the  continent,  and 
one  had  to  travel  to  Paris  in  a  diligence.  .  .  .  Afterwards  I 
came  to  Rouen  in  1843,  a  few  days  after  my  marriage,  and 
about  this  time  of  year,  once  since,  in  1858,  when  we  made 
our  first  expedition  into  Brittany.  .  .  .  Two  of  the  Wantage 
sisters  met  us  with  a  retinue  of  schoolgirls,  whom  they  are 
taking  to  various  parts  for  a  holiday  trip.  They  had  made 
acquaintance  with  the  Cure  of  S.  Ouen  who  had  been  most 
polite,  and  showed  them  about.  He  quite  understood  our 
position  ecclesiastically,  and  wrote  for  them  to  the  Mother 
Superior  of  the  Sisters  of  "S.  Vincent  de  Paul,  to  whom  he 
introduced  them.  I  rather  hope  to  see  him,  and  get  from 
him  some  idea  of  the  real  condition  of  things  in  France. 

On  the  18th  August  he  wrote  from  Bayeux  : 

I  was  fortunate  enough  to  make  the  acquaintance  of  the 
Cure  of  S.  Ouen.1  .  .  .  He  is  a  most  agreeable  and  intelligent 
man.  One  of  the  few  who  really  understand  and  enter  into 
the  Anglican  position.  '  H  n'y  a  qu  un  cheveu  entre  nous.'  And 
when  we  parted  he  loaded  us  with  good  photographs." 

At  Falaise,  on  August  27,  he  writes  : 

On  Tuesday  we  did  well ;  we  took  a  carriage  from  Avranches 
and  drove  to  Mt.  S.  Michel.  The  day  was  cold  but  quite 
sunny  and  bright,  and  we  saw  that  wonderful  place  to  great 
advantage.  On  the  whole  I  think  it  the  most  striking  building 
in  Europe.  .  .  .  We  have  been  roaming  over  the  Castle  of 
Falaise  and  took  refuge  from  a  storm  in  the  bedroom  of 
Arlette  mother  of  Wm.  Conquestor.  ...  I  lament  over  the 
death  of  Mr.  Raikes.  He  was  one  of  the  few  M.P.'s  on  whom 
all  the  Church  could  depend. 

In  1892  he  again  visited  France.  He  wrote  from 
Fontainebleau,  July  13  : 

We  are  just  opposite  the  old  historical  Chateau  full  of 
memories  of  kings  and  queens,  and  'mistresses'  such  as  Diane 
of  Poitiers,  for  whose  honour  or  dishonour  Henry  II.  built  a 
splendid  salon. 

^e  visited  the  Dean  at  Lincoln  in  the  summer  of  1893. 


1893  A   HOLIDAY    IN    SCOTLAND  337 

This  was  the  last  of  his  foreign  trips.  In  1893 
he  went  to  Scotland.  I  am  indebted  to  an  intimate 
friend  of  his  for  the  following  account  of  the  days  he 
spent  in  his  company  : 

I  remember  the  Dean  coming  to  me  and  saying  that  he  was 
thinking  of  going  to  Scotland  for  his  holidays,  and  asking  for 
information  about  the  West  Coast,  as  he  thought  of  going  north 
instead  of,  as  usual,  to  the  continent.  He  said  that  owing 
to  Mrs.  Butler's  health  he  did  not  like  to  leave  her,  and  that 
she  was  not  strong  enough  to  go  abroad.  I  recommended  him 
to  the  immediate  neighbourhood  of  Fort  William,  and  from  my 
description  of  the  locality  he  said  it  was  just  what  he  wanted. 
Shortly  afterwards  he  went  there  with  Mrs.  Butler,  one  of  his 
daughters,  and  a  granddaughter.  Some  fortnight  or  three 
weeks  later  I  followed  him  with  some  of  my  family.  I  found 
him  delighted  with  the  beautiful  country,  the  equally  beautiful 
church,  and  the  people.  It  was  wonderful  how  quickly  he  had 
made  friends  with  all  classes.  A  few  days  later  we  moved  on 
together  to  Spean  Bridge,  where  we  were  due  to  pay  a  visit 
to  some  old  friends,  the  Dean  and  his  party  going  to  the  hotel 
there.  As  our  friends,  however,  knew  the  Butlers  (having  met 
them  at  Lincoln),  we  still  saw  a  great  deal  of  them ;  and  the  Dean 
entered  thoroughly  into  all  that  was  going  on,  walking  with 
us  when  shooting,  and  joining  us  on  the  river. 

One  day  he  started  walking  with  us  at  ten  o'clock,  and  al- 
though the  day  was  very  hot  and  the  ground  rough,  he  walked 
as  well  as  the  best;  and  at  lunch  on  high  ground — over  1500 
feet — he  was  quite  fresh.  To  be  out  all  day  under  somewhat 
trying  conditions  of  weather  and  ground,  and  to  have  made  a 
very  considerable  ascent,  was  a  feat  for  a  man  of  his  age.  The 
following  day  was  Sunday.  He  was  not  tired  with  his  exertions, 
and  was  quite  ready  for  another  hard  day's  work.  He  celebrated 
the  Holy  Communion  at  eight  A.M.,  and  read  the  morning  service 
at  ten.  Soon  after  that  service  he  said  he  wanted  a  long  walk, 
and  he,  our  host,  his  granddaughter,  and  I  started  for  a  pass 
in  the  hills  some  ten  miles  off.  We  had  to  take  our  lunch 
with  us,  and  I  made  the  Dean  quite  angry  because  I  would  not 
allow  him  to  carry  the  bag!  We  had  a  beautiful,  but  very 

Y 


338  LINCOLN  1885- 

hot  walk ;  but  the  whole  way  the  Dean  was  in  the  highest  spirits. 
On  our  return  he  said,  '  Be  quick  and  change,  we  have  just  time 
for  evensong.'  Not  many  men,  I  think,  could  do  two  such  days' 
work  at  seventy -five. 

I  remember  one  afternoon  we  went  to  Glen  Roy  to  see  the 
parallel  roads,  and  these  interested  him  greatly.  He  insisted 
on  going  up  the  hillside  and  on  to  all  the  three  '  roads.' 

I  am  sure  he  enjoyed  himself  in  Lochaber  thoroughly.  He 
interested  himself  much,  as  I  have  said,  in  the  people,  and  he 
gave  great  attention  to  all  he  heard  of  the  Crofter  question, 
of  which  he  took  a  very  impartial  view. 

He  began  to  learn  Gaelic  as  soon  as  he  arrived  in  the  High- 
lands, and  he  bought  a  Bible,  prayer-book,  grammar,  and 
dictionary.  He  tried  to  learn  something  of  the  language  from 
every  one  he  met,  and  he  succeeded  in  learning  the  Lord's 
prayer.  On  one  occasion  he  upset  the  usually  grave  deportment 
of  a  native  servant  by  suddenly  repeating  it  at  dinner  for  the 
benefit  of  his  family ! 

When  he  left  Lochaber  after  a  stay  of  about  a  month,  he 
went  by  the  coach,  which  then  ran  from  Fort  William  to 
Kingussie,  for  the  sake  of  the  very  beautiful  drive  of  forty 
miles.  His  care  for  Mrs.  Butler  caused  him  to  make  all  ex- 
cursions by  driving,  as  otherwise  she  could  not  have  seen  the 
country,  and  the  fine  drive  to  Kingussie  was  therefore  an 
appropriate  end  to  a  holiday  which  we  little  thought  then  was 
his  last. 

Some  correspondence  belonging  to  these  last  years 
may  be  introduced  here. 

W.  J.  B.  TO  Miss  C.  M.  YONGE. 

THE  PALACE,  ELY,  Sept.  19,  1886. 

It  was  very  pleasant  to  see  a  letter  directed  by  your  hand  and 
addressed  to  me.  I  am  afraid  however  that  ungratefully  I 
thought  how  much  pleasanter  it  would  be  to  see  yourself  in  the 
flesh.  We  want  you  more  than  I  can  say  to  visit  St.  Hugh  and 
all  the  wonders  of  Lincoln.  Do  think  about  it.  I  wish  that  I 
could  have  fulfilled  your  bidding.  I  should  have  felt  much 
honoured  in  doing  so.  But  I  never  go — when  I  can  get  off— 


1893  VIEWS    ON    'MISSIONS' 


339 


to  Church  Congresses ;  and,  fortunately  for  me,  the  Bishop  of 
Ripon  wrote  to  me  to  ask  me  to  speak  when  all  my  days  were 
occupied.  ...  I  am  most  glad  that  you  decline  to  appear 
on  platforms.  These  platform  women  are  doing  much  harm 
to  themselves,  and  to  society  at  large.  In  fact,  the  line  which 
some  of  them  [take], — and  I  fear  a  good  many  more, — is  one  of 
the  worst  symptoms  of  the  present  age.  Satan  is  striking  at 
the  citadel — which  women  are.  .  .  . 

W.   J.   B.   TO   MlSS  C.    M.   YONGE. 

'THE  DEANERY,  LINCOLN,  Feb.  27,  1887. 

It  is  rather  remarkable  that  I  was  so  much  exercised  by  the 
account  of  the  Droxfield  '  Mission '  as  incontinently  to  write  to 
The  Guardian.  It  is  probable  that  you  will  see  my  letter  on 
Thursday.  And  I  begin,  "  As  one  brought  up  in  the  school 
of  Mr.  Keble  and  Dr.  Pusey."  You  are  quite  right — so  far  as 

I   am   able  to  judge — and  is  on  a  very  dangerous  tack. 

is  no  theologian.     He  is  a  very  worthy  and  devout  man, 

but  essentially  a  '  sentimentalist.'  I  have  seen  his  little  books. 
.  .  .  But  after  glancing  at  them  I  saw  plainly  that  they  were 
not  made  of  the  right  stuff,  but  belonged  to  that  dangerous 
Lutheran  school  which  has  done  more  harm  than  any  other — 
even  than  Calvinism — because  it  exactly  suits  the  instincts  of 
the  natural  man.  If  I  understand  Christianity  aright,  it  is 
directed  equally  against  the  two  great  crying  sins — pride  and 
sloth.  Therefore  first  of  all  it  claims  that  every  proud  thought 
shall  be  brought  down,  and  next  that  men  should  take  up  their 
cross  and  follow  Christ — that  is,  lead  a  life  of  effort  and  struggle. 
Pride  is  humbled  by  the  institution  of  the  ministry  of  man  to 
man — use  of  sacraments — obedience  to  the  Church.  But 
Lutheranism  ignores  all  this,  and  actually  stimulates  human 
pride  by  enabling  them  to  assert  that  they  are  saved.  And 
the  attack  upon  '  works '  is  the  answer  to  '  take  up  the  cross.' 
Thus  by  substituting  a  gospel  which  is  not  a  gospel,  it  contrives 
neatly  to  neutralise  Christianity.  Then  is  it  justifiable  to  claim 
forgiveness  before  repentance  is  made  certain?  But  how  can 
this  be  brought  about  by  merely  listening  to  an  ecstatic  sermon 
—the  feelings  stimulated — and  no  'fruits  meet'  brought 
forth  1 


340  LINCOLN  1885- 

This  new  development  of  '  High  Churchism '  causes  me  great 
uneasiness.  It  is  the  old  story.  People  will  not  be  patient — 
forget  that  '  stare  super  antiquas  vias '  is  the  only  safe  principle 
— daub  their  walls  with  untempered  mortar,  and  rejoice  in  the 
shallow  results — forgetting  that  the  '  great  hailstones  '  will 
sooner  or  later  fall. 

For  my  own  part,  I  should  say  that  in  a  parish  like  yours 
a  mission  could  not  be  advisable.  If  the  quiet  regular  pastor's 
visits,  and  the  well-cared-for  schools,  and  the  frequent  services 
will  not  meet  the  case,  then  nothing  will.  The  church  may  be 
filled  for  a  certain  number  of  services,  and  a  certain  number  of 
people  may  be  stirred,  etc.  But  all  the  real  result  could  be 
produced  much  more  healthily  and  thoroughly,  though  not  so 
showily,  by  the  regular  parochial  routine.  .  .  . 

This  is  the  letter  to  which  he  refers  : 

EMOTIONAL  EXPRESSION  AT  MISSIONS. 

SIR, — As  one  brought  up  in  the  school  of  men  like  Mr.  Keble 
and  Dr.  Pusey  and  others  of  the  same  mind,  I  feel  bound  to 
enter  my  humble  protest  against  the  doings  of  "  the  Mission  of 
the  very  remarkable  character,"  held  at  Shedfield,  near  Botley, 
Hants,  and  described  in  the  last  Guardian.  I  read  these  words  : 

"  When,  towards  the  close,  those  who  felt  they  had  received 
forgiveness  of  their  sins,  and  had  chosen  Christ  for  their  Master, 
were  asked  to  give  a  sign  by  standing  up  or  holding  up  their 
hands  (while  all  the  congregation  were  kneeling  with  their  eyes 
covered)  the  number  was  very  large." 

Have  we  really  descended  so  low  as  this  ?  Is  this  the  theology 
of  the  Church  of  England  ?  Did  the  "  extempore  preacher  of 
great  power  and  ability  "  imagine  that  such  demonstrations  have 
anything  of  real  worth  ?  How  did  these  people  know  that  they 
had  received  forgiveness  for  their  sins  ?  Must  not  repentance 
precede  forgiveness,  and  what  proofs  had  they  given  of  anything 
like  true  repentance  such  as  ought  to  satisfy  themselves  or 
others  1  If  the  eloquent  gentleman  who  held  them  "spellbound" 
would  study  an  honestly  written  life  of  John  Wesley,  such  as 
Abbey  and  Overton,  or  Lecky  have  described  it,  or  if  he  would 
make  himself  acquainted  with  what  is  called  "  Kevival  work  in 
America,"  he  would  find  that  it  is  a  comparatively  easy  matter, 


1893  FROM   THE   HIGHLANDS  341 

yet  not  without  considerable  danger,  to  kindle  emotional  expres- 
sion, but  very  difficult  to  lay  the  real  foundation  of  a  Christian 
life.  WILLIAM  BUTLER. 

THE  DEANERY,  LINCOLN,  February  26,  1887. 

W.   J.   B.   TO   MISS  C.    M.   YONGE. 

BUCCLECGH  VILLA,  FORT  WILLIAM, 
Aug.  19,  1893. 

Let  me  add  my  word  of  mindfulness  and  love  to  the  many 
which  have  come  to  you  at  this  time.  The  reason  why  my 
name  was  not  among  those  who  sent  the  address  to  you  was 
simply  because,  in  the  deep  affection  and  reverence  which  I 
feel  towards  you,  it  did  not  appear  to  me  sufficient  for  the 
occasion.  Few  can  realise  like  me,  who  remember  you  a  bonny 
young  maiden  riding  your  pony  to  Hursley,  what  you  have 
been  and  what  you  have  done,  how  you  have  maintained  the 
good  old  ways  of  Mr.  Keble  and  the  Tracts  for  the  Times,  and 
how  freely  you  have  offered  of  your  best  'pro  Ecclesia  Dei.' 
I  am  afraid  to  say  more.  You  would  say  that  the  Keble  mind 
abhors  praise.  But  I  just  wished  to  explain  what  might  possibly 
have  seemed  to  you  strange,  considering  the  friendship  with 
which  you  have  so  long  honoured  me,  and  which  I  appreciate 
more  than  words  can  say. 

We  are  here  in  the  heart  of  the  Highlands,  close  to  Inverlochy 
Castle  where  Montrose  defeated  Argyll  as  Sir  Walter  Scott 
tells  in  the  Legend  of  Montrose,  and  twelve  miles  from  Glencoe, 
which  we  visited  on  Monday — a  wild,  savage  glen,  though  hardly 
so  savage  as  William's  soldiers.  We  have  in  face  of  us  Loch 
Linnhe  and  the  mountains  beyond,  and  at  our  back  Ben  Nevis 
frowns  upon  us,  though  he  has  used  us  gently,  sparing  us  the 
cold  and  wet  with  which  generally  he  treats  his  guests.  .  .  . 
Very  earnestly  I  pray  that  God's  blessing  may  rest  upon  you, 
and  give  you  health  and  strength  and  joy  and  peace  in  this 
present  time,  and  the  reward  of  faithful  service  hereafter. 

W.  J.  B.  TO  MRS.  WILKINS. 

THE  DEANERY,  LINCOLN,  Feb.  15,  1887. 

...  In  the  nature  of  things  I  can  hardly  hope  to  see  many 
more  birthdays.  I  have  now  nearly  "  finished  my  course."  And 


342  LINCOLN  1885- 

certainly  my  greatest  happiness  lies  in  the  thought  that,  humanly 
speaking,  Wantage  will  enjoy  good  Church  teaching  for  many  a 
long  year,  and  that  as  one  generation  follows  another  the  love  of 
Christ  and  His  Church  strengthens  rather  than  weakens.  There 
is  nothing  like  it  to  bring  out  the  best  stuff  that  there  is  in 
every  one.  Not  only  does  it  make  people  good,  but  it  makes 
them  clever  and  capable.  See  how  well  our  Wantage  lads  do 
in  London.  .  .  .  Why  ?  Because  they  have  learnt  the  real 
gospel — not  the  sham  thing  that  people  call  the  gospel,  all 
feelings  and  rubbish,  but  the  gospel  which  Christ  taught,  which 
commands  men  to  use  the  means  of  grace,  to  accept  the  ministra- 
tions of  God's  ministers,  and  to  obey  the  Church.  All  this 
is  definite  and  clear,  something  that  one  can  understand.  But 
"Come  to  Christ" — what  does  that  mean?  Or  "Have  you 
found  peace?"  to  which  a  very  holy  man,  a  friend  of  mine, 
replied,  "  No,  /  have  found  war,"  meaning  that  a  Christian  man 
has  to  fight  if  he  is  to  hold  his  own.  .  .  . 

W.  J.  B.  TO  MRS.  WILKINS. 

THE  DEANERY,  LINCOLN,  Feb.  11,  1888. 

...  It  is  now  forty-one  years  since  I  first  settled  down 
in  Wantage  in  bitter  cold  weather,  and  deep  snow  lying  on 
the  ground.  You  remember  the  old  vicarage — a  tumble-down 
old  house,  with  thin  walls,  through  which  the  snails  used  to 
find  their  way  into  our  drawing-room.  My  study  was  upstairs, 
and  the  labouring  men  used  to  clamber  up,  and  leave  plenty 
of  their  traces  on  the  staircase  and  the  landing.1  In  1850  we 
got  into  the  present  vicarage,  and  a  wonderful  comfort  it  was 
to  have  over  our  head  a  good  solid  roof,  and  pleasant  rooms 
to  live  in.  We  thought  ourselves  in  great  state  when  we  got 
there.  That  was  altogether  a  remarkable  year,  for  besides  the 
vicarage,  we  had  the  new  schools  opened,  and  laid  the  first 
stone  of  the  Grammar  School,  and  consecrated  the  cemetery. 
I  little  thought  in  those  days  of  being  Canon  or  Dean.  All 

aOne  of  those  labouring  men,  meeting  him  on  one  of  his  visits  to 
Wantage,  observed,  "  Ye  be  main  changed  since  I  remembers  you, 
sir."  "Well,  Bill,  I  useu't  to  wear  a  shovel  hat  and  gaiters."  "Nay, 
it's  not  that,  sir,  but  ye  be  getting  an  old  man."  The  Dean  related 
this  story  with  infinite  delight. 


1893  RECALLING   OLD   TIMES 


343 


that  I  asked  for  was  not  to  be  persecuted — just  to  be  let  alone, 
to  work  out  my  plans  for  the  Church  and  parish.  .  .  . 

W.  J.  B.  TO  MRS.  WILKINS. 

THE  DEANERY,  LINCOLN,  Feb.  11,  1889. 

.  .  .  Certainly  there  is  no  place  which  I  love  to  be  in  so 
much  as  my  old  parish,  and  I  quite  agree  with  you  in  loving 
the  old  church.  There  are  much  finer  churches  in  the  county, 
and  there  are  others  in  other  places  more  decorated  and 
beautified,  but  for  dignity  and  homeliness  combined  I  know 
none  which  equals  ours.  It  is  now  31  \  years  since  it  was 
restored.  What  a  fight  I  had  to  get  it  done !  Do  you  re- 
member how  some  put  about  that  we  were  going  to  "ruin 
the  dear  old  parish  church"?  This  was  said  and  printed  by 
some  who  did  not  care  a  farthing  for  the  church,  but  who 
wanted  to  oppose  any  attempt  to  make  things  better.  And 
then  there  was  that  vestry  in  1852,  when  all  the  roughs  in 
the  place  came  to  make  a  noise  and  bully.  This  is  a  very 
good  example  of  how  "the  gates  of  hell  cannot  prevail  against 
the  Church,"  for  in  1857  the  work  was  done  and  well  done. 
And  many  of  those  who  had  most  opposed  it  ...  were 
ashamed  of  themselves  and  came  round.  So  I  believe  it  will 
be  in  the  case  of  our  good  Bishop  of  Lincoln.  "The  waves 
of  the  sea  are  mighty  and  rage  horribly,  but  He  that  dwelleth 
on  high  is  mightier."  Yet  it  is,  as  you  say,  a  cruel  attack. 
.  .  .  The  only  move  that  I  shall  ever  make  from  this  will 
be,  in  all  probability,  to  my  last  earthly  home.  So  that  you 
must  not  think  of  Bishoprics  for  me.  .  .  . 

W.  J.  B.  TO  MRS.  WILKINS. 

THE  DEANERY,  LINCOLN,  Feb.  11,  1892. 

.  .  .  The  old  vicarage  was  a  queer  old  place,  parts  of  it 
five  hundred  years  old,  very  draughty  and  inconvenient.  Then 
that  summer  came  small-pox,  and  we  had  many  cases.  Our 
nurse  had  it  very  badly.  She  was  always  marked  by  it.  I 
got  some  credit  because  I  visited  the  people  regularly,  while 
the  Wesleyan  preacher  took  panic  and  went  away.  That  was 
useful  in  the  beginning  of  my  ministry,  especially  as  I  took  a 
new  line  of  services  and  the  like,  [different]  from  those  who 
had  gone  before  me.  .  .  . 


344  LINCOLN  1885- 

W.  J.  B.  TO  HIS  SISTER. 

THE  MEAD,  WANTAGE,  Feb.  14,  1890. 

.  .  .  You  are  fortunate  in  not  having  the  avalanche  of  letters 
which  overwhelms  me  when  my  birthday  arrives.  Half  the 
school  mistresses  in  England  (to  speak  with  some  little 
hyperbole)  have  noted  it  down,  and  write  kind  words  which 
alas !  must  be  acknowledged — to  say  nothing  of  the  children 
at  the  Wantage  schools,  pupil-teachers,  etc.  It  is  certainly 
very  pleasant  to  be  met  with  affection,  but,  like  good  taste, 
it  has  to  be  paid  for. 

I  spent  the  last  three  days  partly  in  Convocation,  where  we 
carried  a  bold  proposal,  viz.,  'that  the  Brotherhoods'  which 
formed  the  subject  of  our  discussion  should  be  allowed  to 
take  'dispensable  vows  of  poverty,  celibacy,  and  obedience.' 
We  had,  as  you  may  suppose,  a  good  fight.  Amendment  after 
amendment  was  moved,  argued  out  and  lost,  and  at  last  we 
carried  it  triumphantly.  It  is  so  ridiculous  to  water  down 
old  words,  which  bear  with  them  a  certain  attractive  ring, 
likely  to  draw  enthusiastic  hearts.  .  .  . 

W.  J.  B.  TO  HIS  SISTER. 

HOTEL  BUDAN,  SAUMUR,  July  27,  1892. 

.  .  .  Well,  we  have  lived  for  nearly  three  weeks  in  the  midst 
of  Renaissance  chateaux,  and  towns.  We  have  seen  Compiegne 
and  its  forests,  Fontainebleau  and  its  gardens,  Blois  and  its 
'  escalier '  and  murder  chamber,  Chambord  and  its  '  tristesse,' 
Loches  and  its  dungeons,  besides  various  pleasant  little,  though 
not  very  little,  inhabited  houses,  de  Beauregard,  Chevernay, 
Azay  le  Kideau,  whose  owners  are  good  enough  to  let  visitors 
enter.  I  must  not  forget  perhaps  the  best  of  them  all, 
Chenonceaux  springing  from  the  river  Cher,  and  full  of  Diana 
of  Poitiers  and  our  old  friend  Catherine  de  Medicis.  We  have 
worked  up  our  French  and  can  very  nearly  repeat  the  names 
of  the  Valois  kings,  and  we  know  something  of  their  wives — 
and  of  those  whom,  sad  to  say,  they  preferred  to  their  wives. 
They  were  a  very  bad  lot — and  I  must  say,  that  always 
excepting  Henry  VIII. ,  and  perhaps  Charles  and  James  II., 
our  kings  and  queens  look  like  saints  by  their  side.  Still, 
they  knew  how  to  build  and  decorate  and  plant,  and  though 


1893  ON   THE   LOIRE  345 

Eenaissance  work  has  a  good  deal  of  the  earthly  and  carnal  in 
it,  one  cannot  deny  the  deft-fingeredness  or  the  imagination  of 
its  designs.  Salamanders,  long-backed  dogs,  swans  with  arrows 
in  their  breasts,  pelicans,  and  porcupines,  are  the  animals  with 
whom  we  have  made  most  acquaintance.  Now  we  are  in  a 
very  different  region.  Plantagenets  and  Angevins  are  our 
hosts.  We  visited  yesterday  Fontevrault,  where  Henry  II. 
and  the  spiteful  Eleanor  and  Richard  Coeur  de  Lion  lie,  and 
we  spent  the  night  at  Chinon,  the  favourite  resort  of  that  race. 
The  Plantagenet  castle  is  gone,  still  the  foundation  remains 
of  the  walls,  but  the  huge  interior  is  become  a  vineyard.  But 
there  are  still  to  be  seen  the  salle  in  which  Charles  VII.  first 
greeted  la  Pucelle,  and  the  tower  in  which  the  dear  saint  was 
lodged  during  her  stay  at  Chinon.  If  the  Pope  would  call 
her  a  Saint,  there  would  be  some  more  reason  than  in  the 
case  of  some  of  those  who  bear  the  name  in  the  Roman  calendar. 
.  .  .  The  worst  of  these  French  towns  is  their  pavement, 
sometimes  even,  sometimes  rough,  but  always  and  everywhere 
large  stones,  half  a  foot  square,  which  make  every  wheelbarrow 
sound  like  a  train.  People  moreover  are  early  birds,  and  the 
noise,  which  does  not  cease  till  near  eleven,  begins  before 
five.  . 


CHAPTER    XII. 

THE    LAST    YEARS. 

I  WILL  try  now  to  describe  Dean  Butler  as  he 
was  in  relation  to  the  Cathedral ;  but  it  is  not  easy 
work.  He  was  so  entirely  unlike  the  conventional 
Dean.  The  charge  of  '  dying  of  dignity '  could  not 
be  laid  against  him,  although  he  knew  perfectly 
well  how  to  hold  his  own  and  check  a  liberty.  It 
was  a  surprise  to  find  oneself  told  not  to  ring  the 
front  door  bell  when  one  wanted  to  see  him,  but 
to  come  straight  into  the  house  by  the  private 
entrance  from  the  cloister,  and  knock  at  his  study 
door.  It  was  his  way  at  Wantage,  he  said,  with 
his  curates.  Soon  I  found  that  he  liked  one  to 
come  to  him  between  9.30  A.M.  and  10.  Naturally 
one  hesitated  to  interrupt  him  at  such  an  hour 
when  he  would  be  in  the  thick  of  his  correspondence, 
but  he  liked  it,  and  so  one  gradually  got  into  the 
way  of  it.  Even  if  one  had  nothing  particular  to 
ask  or  say,  he  liked  the  feeling  of  having  some  one 
with  whom  to  discuss  matters,  to  tell  his  plans,  and 
often  to  instruct  in  the  way  he  wished  things  to 
be  done. 


1885  DAILY   LIFE   AT   LINCOLN 


347 


I  learnt  very  early  that  the  conventional  attitude 
of  an  ecclesiastical  dignitary  to  a  subordinate  was 
not  his.  On  my  once  quoting  some  flippant  remark 
that  curates  and  national  school  masters  were  thorns 
in  the  flesh  to  the  parochial  incumbent,  he  pulled 
me  up  quite  sharply,  "  Why,  my  curates  have  been 
always  my  best  and  dearest  friends."  No  one  can 
read  the  verses  he  wrote  on  his  curates  without 
seeing  how  true  these  words  were.  At  Lincoln  he 
took  pains  to  seek  out  and  become  acquainted  with 
curates  in  the  city  parishes. 

Of  course  he  expected  one  to  work,  and  he  exacted 
a  good  deal ;  but  then  he  set  such  an  example  in 
himself  of  unceasing  work,  that  however  one  might 
feel  inclined  to  grumble,  one  felt  one's  mouth  closed 
by  the  sight  of  a  man  of  his  age,  with  a  position 
which  invited  inactivity,  working  from  morning  till 
night,  and  yet  keeping  bright  and  cheerful  through 
it  all. 

Up  at  six  every  morning,  he  set  to  work  at  once. 
Working-men,  who  knew  his  early  hours,  would  come 
to  him  then  with  demands  on  his  counsel  or  help. 
After  his  breakfast  at  8.30  till  ten  he  would  be 
busy  with  correspondence.  Shoals  of  letters  came 
from  all  parts  of  England.  Letters  asking  advice 
in  spiritual  matters  would  form  a  large  proportion. 
Letters  from  clergymen  in  country  parishes  asking 
him  to  come  and  cheer  them  by  preaching  in  their 
churches  on  Sundays.  Letters  from  clergymen  in 
distress  begging  for  some  pecuniary  aid.  Letters 
relating  to  the  numerous  branches  of  the  Wantage 


348  THE   LAST  YEARS  1885- 

Sisterhood,  as  far  away  as  India.  At  all  these  he 
would  be  working  hard  when  one  tapped  at  his  study 
door  at  about  twenty  minutes  to  ten.  I  hardly  ever 
saw  him  impatient,  though  the  interruptions  to  even 
a  ten  minutes'  talk  would  be  frequent.  Sometimes 
he  would  be  in  the  middle  of  an  important  letter, 
and  would  tell  me  to  take  the  paper  and  sit  down. 
In  a  few  minutes  the  letter  would  be  finished,  and  he 
would  then  jump  up  and  stand  with  his  back  to 
the  fire,  or  perch  himself  on  the  arm  of  his  Windsor 
chair,  to  listen  to  what  one  had  to  say.  I  never 
remember  being  sent  away  except  when  he  was 
engaged  in  some  important  interview.  He  would 
then  robe  and  go  to  the  Cathedral  for  matins,  walking 
with  a  quick  firm  step  across  the  choir,  but  never 
omitting  a  brief  but  reverent  inclination  to  the  altar 
as  he  passed.  On  entering  the  vestry  he  would  go 
to  the  end  of  the  table,  and  after  a  few  whispered 
wrords  on  any  necessary  business,  he  would  cover  his 
face  with  his  hand  and  remain  standing  in  that 
posture  till  the  hour  sounded.  It  was  all  in  keeping 
with  his  intense  dislike  to  anything  that  savoured 
of  irreverence.  He  could  not  endure  trivial  chat 
about  the  morning's  paper,  politics,  or  local  gossip, 
just  before  taking  part  in  Divine  service.  To  him 
it  was  a  very  serious  thing,  and  he  earnestly  desired 
that  the  choir  men  and  choristers  should  keep  as 
quiet  as  possible  in  their  respective  vestries.  If  he 
heard  loud  talking  as  he  passed  by  he  would  stop 
and  say  something.  He,  at  any  rate,  set  the  example 
of  reverence  he  wished  them  to  follow.  Looking 


1 894  A  TENDER   HEART  349 

back  on  the  nine  years  during  which  I  was  brought 
into   close  contact   with  him,    I   note  some   charac- 
teristics of  which  the  outside  world  may  be  ignorant. 
His  was  a  very  grateful  nature.     In  my  intercourse 
with  him  I  could  not  but  be  struck  with  the  warmth 
of  gratitude  with  which  he  spoke  of  all  who  had 
shown  him  kindness  or  helped  him.      It  was  after 
all  so  little  that  one  could  do,  but  it  was  enough  to 
make  him  express  himself  with  the  utmost  warmth 
towards    all    his    Lincoln    friends,    whether   belong- 
ing to  the   Cathedral  or  the  diocese  at  large,  who 
had  supported  him.     Again,  there  was  much  more 
softness  in  his  nature  than  the  outside  world  gave 
him   credit  for.     Many  who  only  saw  him  from  a 
stranger's  point  of  view  thought  him  hard,  abrupt, 
unyielding,    unsympathising.      They  did   not  know 
what   tender  fibres   lay  under  that  seemingly  hard 
exterior.      I  can  recall  now  how  miserable  he  was 
on  being  told  he  had  unwittingly  wounded  the  feel- 
ings of  a   lady  by  something   he   had  said   in  her 
presence,  and  how  he  was  not  to  be  comforted  till  he 
had  personally  assured  her  of  his  regret. 

In  speaking  of  a  case  where  an  incumbent  was 
parting  with  his  curate,  I  heard  him  say,  "  I  have 
no  doubt  he  is  right  in  getting  rid  of  him,  but  I 
should  like  it  done  kindly."  After  his  death  the 
father  of  a  family  in  writing  to  me  said,  "  I  never 
knew  one  who  so  watched  to  do  kindness  to  my 
boys."1  And  again,  I  was  always  struck  with  his 

1  His  love  for  children  was  very  great,  and  he  delighted  in  producing 
a  little  silver  box  from  his  pocket,  and  giving  a  jujube  from  it  to  any 


350  THE   LAST   YEARS  1885- 

indifference  to  public  praise  in  regard  to  any  of  the 
changes  he  effected  in  the  Cathedral.  Once  more,  he 
was  by  no  means  so  unwilling  to  confess  himself 
wrong  as  some  have  thought  who  judged  him  by  the 
dogmatic  tone  of  his  assertions. 

Certainly  he  never  hesitated  to  speak  his  mind, 
and  it  was  generally  made  up  ;  but  I  have  known 
him  more  than  once  retract  an  opinion  and  candidly 
own  he  was  wrong,  and  many  times  in  discussing 
some  subject  on  which  a  difference  of  opinion  might 
be  entertained,  he  has  said,  "  I  may  be  wrong."  Of 
course,  with  his  large  experience  of  parochial  life, 
he  could  not  fail  to  have  a  tolerably  well-grounded 
opinion  on  most  matters  connected  with  a  parish, 
but  he  by  no  means  looked  back  on  his  Wantage 
life  as  totally  free  from  mistakes.  On  the  contrary, 
in  talking  it  over  with  me,  he  has  said  sometimes 
that  in  some  points  he  should  have  done  differently 
had  his  life  been  lived  over  again. 

I  have  mentioned  these  traits  in  his  character 
because  those  who  only  knew  him  slightly,  or  who 
held  aloof  from  him,  would  probably  not  recognise 
them.  It  cannot  be  denied  that  there  was  something 
in  his  manner  and  mode  of  speaking  which  was 
calculated  to  make  people  think  him  hard  and 
opinionative.  He  had  no  patience  with  sentiment- 
alism,  nor  indeed  with  sentiment  if  it  interfered  with 
what  he  thought  was  practically  beneficial.  This 

little  one  with  whom  he  came  in  contact.  The  surprise  and  satisfac- 
tion this  occasioned  to  a  little  French  baby  in  an  out-of-the-way 
village  near  Compiegne  was  pretty  to  behold,  as  was  the  way  the 
mother's  face  lighted  up  at  this  unexpected  notice  from  a  stranger. 


1894  MISUNDERSTANDINGS  351 

brought  him  into  disgrace  with  architectural  critics 
when  he  insisted  on  the  pavement  of  the  retrochoir 
being  relaid  and  made  smooth  for  the  benefit  of  the 
congregation  who  met  at  8  A.M.  on  Thursdays  and 
at  4.45  P.M.  for  the  short  addresses  on  Saints'  days. 
He  could  not   conceive  the  advantage  of  retaining 
the  old  uneven  pavement,  and  was  deaf  to  all  re- 
monstrances.    So  also  with  the  Chapter-house.     He 
never  could  rest  till  the  Diocesan   Conference   and 
missionary    meetings    were     transferred     from     the 
County  Assembly  Rooms  to  what   he   considered  a 
far   more    seemly   place ;    but  the   levelling   of  the 
sloping  floor  was  a  grievous  offence  to  many  who 
did  not  understand  his  motive  in  wishing  to  make 
use    of  an   ecclesiastical    building   for    ecclesiastical 
purposes,   and   the  rumour   spread  abroad  that   the 
Dean  was  spoiling  the  Cathedral.      He  would  only 
laugh   on   being   told   this,    and   I   don't   think    he 
minded  it.     So  long  as  he  was  clear  on  the  main 
point  he  did  not  trouble  himself  with  details. 

On  another  occasion,  in  a  speech  on  behalf  of  the 
School  of  Art,  he  used  a  phrase  which  gave  offence 
to  some,  when  he  said  that  the  "people  of  Lincoln 
needed  a  little  civilization."  Of  course  his  meaning 
was  clear  enough  to  any  one  who  understood  the 
technical  sense  of  the  word,  but  there  were  some 
who  insisted  that  he  had  insulted  Lincoln  by  calling 
its  people  barbarians  ! 

Little  things  like  these  often  conspired  to  give 
outsiders  an  unfavourable  impression.  His  out- 
spokenness was  often  unpalatable  to  those  who  might 


352  THE   LAST   YEARS  1885- 

otherwise  have  been  more  drawn  to  him.  He  never 
minced  matters.  He  would  tell  you  plainly  that 
he  had  no  opinion  of  district  visitors,  that  clergy- 
men's wives  often  did  a  great  deal  of  mischief  by 
meddling,  or  as  he  would  say,  by  "  poking  their 
noses"  into  parochial  matters  where  they  were  not 
wanted  ;  that  a  clergyman  was  of  little  use  unless 
he  taught  religion  daily  in  the  parish  school ;  that 
large  congregations  were  no  proof  of  a  clergyman's 
efficiency,  and  such  like.  Now  he  would  qualify 
all  these  assertions  if  any  one  entered  into  conver- 
sation with  him.  What  he  really  meant  was  that 
district  visitors'  work  is  often  inefficient  when  they 
are  not  trained,  and  will  not  submit  to  training. 
What  his  sentiments  were  respecting  clergymen's 
wives  can  be  best  shown  by  the  following  letter  : 

W.  J.  B.  TO  REV.  — 


LEE  HOUSE,  BRIGHTON,  January  15,  1888. 

...  So  you  have  met  your  fate  at  last.  I  believe  that, 
situated  as  you  are,  you  will  find  that  your  work  will  be  greatly 
strengthened  by  having  a  partner.  Not  that  I  believe  in  what 
are  called  'clergy women,'  nor  in  the  claim  which  people  some- 
times make  on  clergymen's  wives  to  do  parochial  work.  I  do  not 
consider  that  they  have  any  more  call  to  this  than  any  other 
ladies.  ALL  people  ought  to  take  their  part  in  good  works,  and 
so  far,  no  doubt,  the  wife  of  a  clergyman  ought  to  set  a  good 
example.  But  I  resent  the  claim.  Mrs.  Jones,  the  lawyer's  wife, 
and  Mrs.  Brown,  the  squire's  wife,  etc.,  etc.,  are  just  as  much 
bound  in  the  sight  of  God  to  do  good  to  their  fellow-creatures  as 

Mrs. ,  the  vicar's  wife.     And  the  consequence  of  the  claim 

being  allowed  or  recognised  is  that  clergymen's  wives  are  often 
fussy,  self-asserting,  and  negligent  of  their  own  households.  The 
first  thing  for  every  married  woman  to  do  is  to  have  her  house 


1894  OF   A   CLERGYMAN'S   WIFE 


353 


well  ordered,  whether  she  be  the  wife  of  clergyman  or  layman. 
Then,  after  that,  let  her  do  what  she  can  for  others.  I  am  sure 
that  in  this  way  a  clergyman  will  win  more  respect,  have  more 
Trto-Tts  ifiiKri,  and  so  be  able  to  do  more  for  his  flock,  than  if  his 
wife  went  poking  about  into  the  people's  houses,  and  giving 
tongue  at  temperance  meetings,  or  G.F.S.,  or  mothers'  meetings, 
and  the  like. 

Now  I  did  not  mean  to  write  all  this  yarn.  It  flowed  out 
spontaneously  and  would  not  stop. 

I  hope  that  we  soon  may  have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you  and 
your  future  wife.  You  know  how  glad  we  should  be  to 
receive  you  at  Lincoln.  Only  if  you  come,  you  must  come  soon. 
We  are  all  growing  old,  and  before  very  long  you  may  be  called 
upon  to  attend  something  very  different  from  wedding 
feasts.  .  .  . 

He  himself  had  taught  daily  in  the  Wantage 
schools  for  thirty-four  years,  and  he  never  faltered 
in  his  conviction  of  the  importance  of  this  duty. 
The  real  proof  of  a  clergyman's  efficiency  he  believed 
to  be  shown  in  the  number  of  the  communicants,  not 
in  the  number  of  those  who  simply  came  to  church 
possibly  for  the  music  or  for  the  preaching.  But 
strong  statements  sometimes  scared  and  repelled 
people.  He  was  not  merciful  to  self-indulgence  in 
any  form,  and  never  liked  a  clergyman  to  smoke. 
In  answer  to  arguments  he  would  simply  say,  "  Mr. 
Keble  never  did."  I  think  this  reference  to  one 
whom  he  reverenced  more  than  any  other  man  in 
the  Church  of  England,  helps  to  explain  his  attitude 
towards  what  are  usually  thought  harmless  in- 
dulgences. Every  one  who  reads  Dr.  Pusey's  Life 
must  be  struck  with  the  austerity,  and  indeed  asceti- 
cism, which  marked  the  lives  of  the  Tractarian  party. 
Dean  Butler  had  come  in  contact  with  it  early,  and 


354  THE    LAST   YEARS  1885- 

had  found  in  Mr.  Keble  a  guide  and  pattern  he 
never  refused  to  follow.  Hence,  he  had  one  good- 
humoured  answer  to  all  who  pleaded  for  a  mitigation 
of  the  rigid  rule  he  held  against  a  clergyman  smoking, 
or  dancing,  or  shooting,  "Mr.  Keble  never  did  it." 

But  he  had  also  a  deeper  reason  for  this  strictness. 
He  had  a  very  strong  conviction  that  in  these  days 
the  Church  is  on  her  trial,  and  that  what  was 
tolerated  in  past  days  would  not  be  tolerated  now. 
He  was  fond  of  saying  that  formerly  people  believed 
in  the  Church,  but  that  now  they  believe  in  the 
parson — meaning  that  whereas  they  once  had  faith 
in  the  Church  as  a  system,  they  now  only  had  in 
individuals. 

No  one  who  knew  his  daily  life  as  a  Dean  could 
possibly  think  he  held  up  a  standard  of  life  which 
he  did  not  keep  to.  His  life  as  a  parish  priest  had 
been  such  as  probably  few  would  have  lived  who 
so  .  early  met  with  rich  preferment,  He  told  me 
that  when  he  went  to  Wantage  the  living  was  £800 
a  year,  and  that  when  he  had  paid  his  curates,  and 
subscriptions  to  schools  and  charities,  only  £150 
remained,  so  that  had  he  been  destitute  of  private 
means  he  could  not  have  carried  out  his  plans.  His 
style  of  living  was  of  the  simplest,  and  he  only  had 
a  late  dinner  on  state  occasions.  Social  pleasure  he 
put  aside,  and  seldom  dined  out  in  the  neighbour- 
hood. Each  day  was  a  day  of  hard  work,  spent  in 
the  church,  in  the  schools,  in  the  parish.  His  one 
relaxation  was  his  annual  six  weeks'  holiday  which 
he  always  allowed  himself,  and  without  which  he 


1894  DISLIKE   OF   GRUMBLERS  355 

would  have  long  before  broken  down.  One  cannot 
be  surprised  that  Dean  Butler,  after  such  a  parochial 
life,  had  little  sympathy  with  valetudinarianism,  or 
clerical  apathy  or  idleness.  "  Of  course  it  is  a  grind," 
he  would  say  impatiently,  on  hearing  of  some  clergy- 
man complaining  of  work.  And  he  could  not  endure 
discontent.  "  What  is  he  grumbling  about,  what 
does  he  want?"  he  would  say;  and  then,  on  being 
told  that  so  and  so  wanted  to  get  away  to  a  better 
or  pleasanter  living,  he  would  burst  out  into  strong 
condemnation.  Of  course  this  laid  him  open  to  the 
taunt  that  as  he  obtained  a  good  living  so  early,  he 
could  not  appreciate  the  weariness  of  those  who 
struggle  on  for  long  years  on  exiguous  preferment, 
but  this  is  easily  shown  to  be  a  cavil.  His  own 
life  of  hard  work  and  rigid  self-denial  gives  the  lie 
to  the  insinuation  that  he  could  not  sympathise  with 
those  who  feel  the  wear  and  tear  of  body  and  mind 
in  well- worked  parishes ;  and  it  must  also  be  re- 
membered that  the  greater  part  of  his  Wantage  life 
was  passed  ungraced  by  any  mark  of  favour  from 
his  diocesan.  Although  Bishop  Wilberforce  called 
him  a  model  parish  priest,  yet  he  received  his 
solitary  distinction  of  an  Honorary  Canonry  of 
Christ  Church  from  the  hands  of  Bishop  Mackarness. 
It  was  reserved  for  Mr.  Gladstone  to  have  the  credit 
of  relieving  him  from  the  toil  of  a  parish  by  making 
him  first  Canon  of  Worcester,  and  then  Dean  of 
Lincoln.  Hence,  he  was  never  weary  of  telling 
clergymen  that  if  they  only  did  their  duty  honestly 
and  single-heartedly,  preferment  would  come  in  good 


356  THE   LAST  YEARS  1885- 

time  to  them,  as  it  had  done  to  him.  He  had  never 
sought  directly  or  indirectly  for  it.  He  could 
thoroughly  sympathise  with  a  man  who  did  his 
work  simply  and  uncomplainingly ;  he  could  enter 
into  his  difficulties,  and  would  do  all  he  could  to 
help  him ;  but,  as  I  have  said,  he  could  not  bear 
complaints  and  discontent. 

The  life  he  lived  as  Dean  was  a  continuation  of 
the  parochial  life  under  different  conditions,  but 
with  the  same  vigour  as  of  old.  He  would  come 
back  on  Easter  Eve  from  Wantage,  where  through- 
out the  whole  week  most  of  his  time  had  been  spent 
in  hearing  confessions  and  delivering  addresses, 
looking  completely  worn  out ;  and  yet  the  next 
morning  he  would  be  celebrating  Holy  Com- 
munion in  the  retrochoir  at  seven  o'clock,  giving 
a  short  earnest  address  and  later  on  preaching  at 
matins  in  the  choir  with  wonderful  freshness  and 
vigour ;  and  this  at  an  age  when  most  men  crave 
for  rest. 

He  could  not  be  called  a  popular  preacher  in  the 
common  sense  of  the  term.  Nature  had  not  given 
him  a  correct  musical  ear,  and  there  was  a  curious 
misplacement  of  accent  which  often  marred  the 
delivery.  He  would  begin  in  rather  a  low-pitched 
monotonous  voice,  perfectly  distinct ;  but  as  he 
warmed  to  his  subject  he  would  gradually  raise  his 
voice,  and  then,  owing  to  the  peculiar  acoustic  pro- 
perties of  the  Cathedral,  many  words  would  be  lost. 
But  none  who  heard  him  could  fail  to  be  struck  with 
the  intense  earnestness,  the  absolute  sincerity  of 


1894  ON   GOOD   FRIDAY   COMMUNION  357 

every  word  he  uttered.  His  sermons  were  not,  as 
I  have  said,  popular;  they  were  not  flights  of 
oratory  ;  they  were  not  what  is  called  comfortable ; 
for  he  realised  so  deeply  the  nature  and  extent  of 
sin  that  he  could  not  preach  without  attacking  it  in 
some  shape  ;  but  such  as  they  were  they  made  a 
deeper  impression  than  the  more  sugary  effusions 
of  recognised  pulpit  orators.  The  remarks  of  a 
Lincoln  nonconformist  curiously  illustrate  this. 
He  was  asked  whom  he  liked  to  hear  best  in  the 
Cathedral,  and  he  replied,  "the  Dean,  because  he 
means  business''  I  do  not  know  that  a  better  de- 
scription could  be  given  of  Dean  Butler's  sermons. 

Although  he  was  a  very  decidedly  High  Church- 
man, yet  he  did  not  agree  with  all  the  practices  of 
the  High  Church  party.  He  always  insisted  that 
there  should  be  a  Celebration  of  Holy  Communion 
on  Good  Friday.  I  remember  his  dear  friend  Canon 
Freeling,  taking  the  opposite  view  in  conversation 
with  him,  but  the  Dean  was  inflexible.  His  views 
on  this  matter  are  expressed  in  letters  to  a  former 
Wantage  curate. 

W.  J.  B.  TO  REV.  E.  J.  HOLLOWAY. 

WANTAGE  VICABAGE,  Tuesday  in  Holy  Week,  1880. 

I  have  not  much  time,  but  nevertheless  your  letter  must  be 
answered.  Every  year  I  feel  more  that  I  have  been  right  in 
maintaining  the  Good  Friday  Communion.  The  whole  thing 
starts  from  the  ignorance  of  the  ritualists,  who  imagine  because 
Roman  Catholics  do  not  celebrate  on  that  day  that  there  was 
no  Communion.  Whereas  if  they  had  read  and  could  translate 
the  "Rituale  Romanum,"  they  would  have  found  a  special  ser- 
vice for  the  Priest's  Communion.  Moreover,  it  is  an  old  English 


358  THE   LAST  YEARS  1885- 

custom,  and  though,  one  must  take  care  not  to  let  it  supersede,  as 
once  it  did  supersede  Easter,  I  do  not  like  to  let  old  traditions 
drop.  We  have  from  twenty  to  thirty  communicants  always  on 
that  day,  and  it  does  not  interfere  with  Easter  at  all.  For  my 
own  part  I  cannot  imagine  how  I  could  get  through  the  day 
without  Holy  Communion.  .  .  . 


THE  COLLEGE,  WORCESTER,  March  27  [1884]. 

...  I  send  to  you  a  little  pamphlet l  on  a  somewhat  im- 
portant subject.  The  evidence  of  Tunstal  is  very  striking.  For 
my  own  part  I  have  never,  as  you  know,  abandoned  Good 
Friday  Communion.  I  believe  it  to  be  an  old  English  tradition 
which  some  of  our  friends  have  rashly,  in  their  zeal  to  imitate 
Eome,  endeavoured  to  stamp  out.  I  think  that  you  will  con- 
sider the  pamphlet  worth  perusal. 

So,  too,  he  disapproved  strongly  of  the  custom 
recently  adopted  by  many  clergy,  of  refusing  to  give 
the  chalice  into  the  hands  of  the  communicants. 
Here  he  appealed  to  the  rubric,  "into  their  hands," 
for  confirmation  of  his  view. 

Although  the  world  had  all  his  life  looked  upon 
him  as  a  ritualist,  yet  he  was  not  one  in  the  ordinary 
sense  of  the  term.  He  understood  and  valued  ritual 
indeed,  but  only  where  he  conceived  it  to  be  intelli- 
gible and  useful.  He  once  exploded  in  strong  wrath 
in  telling  me  of  a  young  clergyman  who  had  read 
the  Epistle  and  Gospel  in  an  inaudible  voice,  and 
then  defended  himself  for  so  doing  on  the  ground 
that  the  whole  service  of  the  Holy  Communion  was  a 
mystery !  This  sort  of  thing  he  could  not  endure 
with  any  patience. 

1 "  Celebration  of  Holy  Communion  on  Good  Friday  the  rule  of  the 
Church  of  England,"  by  Eev.  A.  Wilson,  M.A.  (George  Bell  &  Sons, 
1884.) 


1894  VIEWS   ON    VARIOUS   SUBJECTS  359 

In  talking  with  me  about  confession  and  Sister- 
hoods he  surprised  me  by  what  he  said.  It  is  always 
hazardous  to  trust  to  one's  memory,  but  my  impres- 
sion is  that  in  speaking  of  confession  he  said  it 
was  of  special  benefit  to  two  very  opposite  classes — 
those  who  had  led  very  sinful  lives,  and  those  whose 
lives  were  of  singular  purity  and  holiness.  The 
former,  he  said,  found  comfort  in  an  authoritative 
absolution,  an  assurance  of  forgiveness  for  their  past 
sinfulness ;  while  the  latter  were  often  distressed  by 
excessive  scruples  of  conscience,  and  needed  support 
and  encouragement.  But  he  was  not  for  pressing 
confession  on  all.  What  he  said  about  Sisterhoods 
I  have  more  than  once  heard  him  repeat.  He  was 
not  for  the  multiplication  of  such  institutions  on 
separate  and  distinct  foundations.  He  thought  that 
they  often  ran  into  debt  and  got  into  trouble  simply 
because  they  were  started  with  insufficient  means  on 
an  insecure  basis.  He  never  allowed  his  own  Sisters 
to  beg. 

I  give  these  scraps  of  conversation  for  what  they 
are  worth,  but  they  serve  to  show  with  what  open- 
ness and  frankness  he  would  discuss  such  matters 
with  a  subordinate.  He  never  shirked  a  question  or 
put  it  aside,  but  would  always  do  his  best  to  enlighten 
one  on  any  point  when  he  was  asked.  He  was  very 
precise  in  his  views  as  to  the  conduct  and  reading 
of  the  service.  He  disliked  seeing  the  Bible  left 
open  when  once  it  was  done  with  after  the  second 
lesson.  He  would  say,  Our  Lord  closed  the  book 
when  He  had  finished  reading.  He  did  not  like 


360  THE   LAST   YEARS  1885- 

words  to  be  clipped  in  reading  the  Bible  or  Prayer 
Book ;  and  I  remember  on  one  occasion  he  asked  if 
any  one  ever  read  the  opening  lines  of  the  exhortation, 
"  Dearly  belov'd  brethren."  He  held  that  the  rhythm 
of  the  sentences  required  that  the  "  eds "  should  be 
sounded. 

His  own  reading  was  rapid,  but  never  anything 
but  intensely  reverent.  So  also  his  whole  demeanour 
in  church  struck  one  as  being  that  of  a  man  who 
realised  God's  presence.  It  made  him  absolutely 
intolerant  of  what  he  called  "  sloppiness "  in  doing 
the  service.  He  did  not  use  many  modes  of  express- 
ing reverence  which  have  become  common  in  later 
days.  He  gave  a  reverent  inclination,  not  a  genu- 
flection, to  the  altar.  I  never  saw  him  use  the  sign 
of  the  cross  in  church.  And  yet  the  Paradisus 
Animce  and  the  breviary  were,  with  his  Bible  and 
Prayer  Book,  his  daily  spiritual  bread. 

His  attitude  towards  nonconformists  has  already 
been  touched  on  by  Canon  Fowler.  I  may  add 
to  what  has  been  said  that  there  was  a  cordial 
friendship  between  him  and  one  of  the  leading 
Lincoln  nonconformists,  who  has  earned  the  grati- 
tude of  Churchmen  by  his  munificent  gift  to  the 
Cathedral  of  Queen  Eleanor's  recumbent  effigy.  Dean 
Butler  never  passed  a  Christmas  Day  without  a  visit 
to  his  friend's  house. 

A  lecture  which  he  gave  to  an  audience  largely 
composed  of  nonconformists  subjected  him  to  some 
criticism.  Of  course  the  matter  was  exaggerated, 
and  very  soon  after  his  death  I  found  an  amiable 


1894  CHURCH   AND    DISSENT  361 

clergyman    possessed    with    the   idea   that   he   had 
officiated  in  a  nonconformist  chapel. 

The  Dean  never  disguised  his  opinions  on  the 
subject  of  Dissent,  He  never  would  allow  the  stock 
argument  that  as  we  all  are  trying  to  go  to  the  same 
place  it  does  not  matter  by  which  road  we  go.  He 
had  no  opinion  of  the  'exchange  of  pulpits'  device 
by  which  some  have  thought  our  religious  divisions 
might  be  healed.  He  would  have  nothing  to  do 
with  platform  controversy,  whereby,  he  would  say, 
the  parson  and  minister  enact  "a  religious  cock-fight" 
for  the  amusement  of  the  public.  His  own  view 
was  that,  as  Dissent  had  thriven  from  the  Church's 
neglect  of  her  duties,  the  only  way  to  make  things 
better  was  for  clergymen  to  do  their  duty  thoroughly. 

Nothing  depressed  him  more  than  to  find  a  clergy- 
man neglecting  his  duty.  I  have  known  him  come 
back  from  preaching  in  remote  country  villages 
disheartened  and  out  of  spirits  at  what  he  had  heard 
of  parishes  where  the  clergyman  never  went  near 
the  schools.  "  How  can  he  expect  the  people  to  be 
other  than  Dissenters  if  he  does  not  get  hold  of  the 
young  generation  and  teach  them  true  Church 
principles,"  he  would  say ;  and  at  the  suggestion 
that  teaching  daily  in  the  school  was  irksome,  "Of 
course  it  is  a  grind.  What  a  grind  it  was  at 
Wantage  getting  the  children  to  say  their  prayers." 

In  politics  he  took  a  line  of  his  own.  His  feelings 
and  sympathies  were,  in  his  later  years  conservative; 
but  his  pet  formula,  which  he  was  fond  of  quoting, 
gives  the  key  to  his  political  convictions:  "He  loveth 


362  THE   LAST   YEARS  1885- 

our  nation,  and  hath  built  us  a  synagogue."  So  long 
as  a  man  was  patriotic,  and  a  Churchman,  he  did  not 
ask  for  more. 

His  own  personal  friendships  were  not  affected 
by  political  differences.  Lord  Swansea  had  been  a 
lifelong  friend,  and  he  was  on  terms  of  affectionate 
intimacy  with  his  brother-in-law,  K.  D.  Hodgson, 
who  represented  Bristol  in  the  Liberal  interest. 

On  coming  into  Lincolnshire  he  had  great  pleasure 
in  renewing  acquaintance  with  men  whom  he  had 
been  with  at  Westminster  and  Cambridge — Canon 
Welby,  Mr.  Banks  Stanhope,  and  others.  He  had 
an  extraordinary  memory  for  faces  known  to  him 
in  early  days,  and  delighted  in  discussing  old  times 
with  former  school  and  college  friends. 

Otherwise,  it  must  be  confessed,  he  never  quite 
cordially  '  took  to '  Lincolnshire.  Perhaps  few 
people  brought  up  in  the  south  and  coming  here 
late  in  life,  ever  do. 

He  was  painfully  struck  with  what  seemed  to  him 
the  want  of  organisation  in  the  Diocese.  Living  so 
long  as  he  had  done  in  a  very  perfectly  organised 
Diocese  like  that  of  Oxford,  he  could  not  at  first 
understand  why  Lincoln  should  be  so  different.  In 
vain  one  used  to  urge  various  pleas — that  the 
awkward  situation  of  Lincoln  itself,  on  one  side  of  the 
county,  and  not  well  served  by  trains,  was  an 
obstacle ;  or  that  Lincoln  never  had  been  held  in 
the  same  esteem  in  Lincolnshire  as  York  is  in  York- 
shire. It  was  all  in  vain.  The  contrasts  which  he 
not  infrequently  drew  may  have  served  to  repel  some 


1894  SOME   LAST   LETTERS  363 

from  becoming  intimate  with  him  ;  but  as  a  rule 
he  made  friends  wherever  he  went.  It  was  difficult, 
indeed,  to  resist  such  thorough  sincerity  of  kindness, 
such  genuine  truthfulness  as  he  evinced  in  his  inter- 
course with  clergy  and  laity.  Some  held  aloof,  but 
though  he  was  quite  aware  of  their  sentiments,  he 
never  gave  vent  to  any  bitterness  in  what  he  said 
of  them.  On  the  contrary,  in  one  case  he  took 
special  pains  to  gratify  what  he  knew  were  the 
wishes  of  a  clergyman,  although  he  was  perfectly 
aware  of  the  latter's  feeling  towards  him.  It  was 
all  of  a  piece  with  the  generosity  of  his  nature  to  try 
to  satisfy  another  man's  desires  without  getting  any 
thanks  for  doing  so. 

I  close  these  recollections  with  two  letters ;  one 
written  from  Scotland.  The  first  words  make  one 
feel  ashamed  that  one  should  have  added  to  his 
labours  by  asking  him  for  help  during  one's  holiday ; 
but  he  was  always  only  too  willing  to  give  it. 

BUCCLEUGH  VILLA,  FORT  WILLIAM,  August  14,  1893. 

/  can  manage  September  24.  We  are  not  at  all  badly  situated 
here,  with  a  loch  and  mountains  in  front,  and  Ben  Nevis  behind 
us.  House  clean  and  sweet.  We  are  waited  upon  by  two  Miss 
Macdonalds,  daughters  of  a  vigorous  Highlander  who  has  all  the 
coaching  and  other  traffic  business  in  his  hands — a  stout  Episco- 
palian and  Conservative.  He  comes  from  Glencoe,  whither, 
about  twenty  miles  off,  he  is  to  drive  us  to-day.  We  went  to  the 
church  here — built  mainly  by  the  exertions  of  Mr.  Davey,  friend 
of  Mr.  Hutton  Riddell — a  really  satisfactory  building.  .  .  .  We 
met  many  friends  in  Edinburgh  ;  visited  the  Cathedral,  which  is 
really  a  fine  building  and  has  good  services.  The  Dean,  Mont- 
gomery, is  a  fine  old  Scotchman.  ...  I  am  poking  a  little  at 
Gaelic.  It  is  very  hard  and  barbaric. 


364  THE    LAST   YEARS  1885- 

The  other  letter  is  the  last  I  ever  received  from  him : 

THE  DEANERY,  LINCOLN,  September  25,  1893. 

Before  I  get  to  write  my  paper  for  the  Church  Congress,  I  will 
write  you  a  line  respecting  yesterday's  services  at  Burton.  The 
church  was  full  both  times,  and  the  singing  and  general  tone  all 
that  one  can  desire.  How  sad  it  is  that  the  same  cannot  be 
everywhere  !  It  might  were  it  not  for  that  horrid  Methodism 
and  other  forms  of  Dissent ;  yet  even  they  would  be  in  a  great 
degree  neutralised  if  the  clergy  did  their  work  faithfully  and 
kindly.  .  .  .  Mrs.  Butler  is  still  at  Wantage.  She  is  to  join 
me  at  Dogmersfield  in  October,  I  believe.  We  stay  with  the 
Mildmays,  and  I  am  to  preach  on  the  fiftieth  anniversary  of  the 
rebuilding  of  the  church.  My  first  curacy  was  there,  and  a  great 
blessing  it  has  been  to  me.  The  Dysons  were  no  ordinary 
people.  They  were  very  clever  and  affectionate,  and  took  a  high 
view  of  clerical  duty.  He  had  been  Professor  of  Anglo-Saxon, 
and  belonged  to  that  famous  old  C.C.C.  lot,  which  included 
Arnold,  and  Mr.  Keble,  and  Cornish  of  Kenwyn,  and  various 
other  noble  souls.  Make  the  best  of  your  holiday,  and  return 
ruddy,  round,  and  reasonable. 

In  July,  1893,  the  Dean  and  Mrs.  Butler  cele- 
brated their  '  golden  wedding.'  It  was  marked  by 
various  gifts  to  the  Cathedral,  notably  a  beautiful 
Bible  for  the  choir  lectern  from  their  children  and 
grandchildren,  and  a  gold  chalice  set  with  sapphires 
for  use  at  the  altar  in  the  Lady  Chapel,  from  many 
friends  connected  with  Wantage.  No  one  then  had 
the  slightest  idea  how  near  the  clouds  of  sorrow  were. 
The  Dean's  health  was  good,  and  although  Mrs.  Butler 
was  no  longer  equal  to  taking  foreign  tours,  yet  there 
was  no  cause  for  uneasiness  about  her.  The  sonnet 
written  in  acknowledgement  of  the  tokens  of  love  and 
friendship  on  the  occasion  of  the  '  golden  wedding ' 
shows  however  that  the  Dean  had  memento  mori 


I894  THE   GOLDEN   WEDDING  365 

ever  before  his  eyes.  But  this  was  no  recent  thought 
to  him.  One  of  his  first  acts  on  coming  to  Lincoln 
was  to  get  leave  from  the  Home  Secretary  for  the 
interment  of  members  of  the  Chapter  and  their 
families  in  the  Cloister  Garth,  and  he  selected  his 
own  place  of  burial  and  frequently  pointed  it  out  to 
friends  as  he  was  passing  through  the  Cloister. 

A  crumbling  wall  to  fall  at  lightest  breath, 
A  bark  hull-covered  as  the  waters  rose, 
A  city  round  whose  wall  the  foemen  close, 

An  aged  man  who  daily  looks  on  death 

Such,  dearest  friends,  am  I — yet  this  remains: 

A  heart  which  beats  in  unison  with  love, 
A  heart  which  love  rejoices  like  the  rains 

Which  fall  on  thirsty  soil  and  quickly  prove 
That  life  remains  within.     Thus,  then,  'tis  mine 
To  feel  new  life  in  all  the  love  from  all 

Poured  forth  on  me  and  her,  for  lustres  ten 
Most  wise  and  helpful  mate,  true  oil  and  wine 
To  vexed  and  troubled  spirit,  whom  to  call 
Wife,  and  my  own,  exalts  me  among  men. 
With  grateful  heart, 

WILLIAM  BUTLER. 

A  letter  written  at   the  same   time  breathes  the 
same  spirit : 

W.  J.  B.  TO 

THE  DEANERY,  LINCOLN,  July  31,  1893. 

Many  thanks  to  you  and  to  your  father  also  for  '  minding ' 
our  fiftieth  wedding  day.  It  is  very  wonderful  that  we  should 
both  be  alive  and  reasonably  well,  fairly  able-bodied  and 
not  idiotic.  Of  course  this  cannot  last  for  ever,  nor  much 
longer.  But  whenever  the  change  comes  my  only  feeling  will  be 
of  deepest  thankfulness  to  Him  Who  has  poured  so  many  bless- 
ings on  my  life.  Few  have  had  a  happier  life  than  I.  I  trust 
that  the  poor  return  that  I  have  made  may  be  forgiven.  You 


366  THE   LAST  YEARS  1885- 

and  others  do  not  know  how  much  I  have  to  lament — yet  so 
it  is — and  the  thought  of  so  many  good  things  given  makes  this 
all  the  more  keenly  felt.  .  .  . 

In  October  the  blow  came.  He  was  to  preach  in 
a  church  at  Maidenhead,  and  shortly  before  going 
up  into  the  pulpit  a  telegram  was  put  into  his  hands 
which  told  him  that  Mrs.  Butler,  whom  he  had  left 
perfectly  well  at  Lincoln,  was  stricken  with  paralysis. 
The  shock  must  have  been  terrible,  but  with  his 
strong  sense  of  duty  he  would  not  shirk  the  task 
he  had  to  do.  He  preached,  although,  as  he  after- 
wards said,  he  did  not  know  how  he  did  it ;  and 
after  making  some  necessary  arrangements  at  Want- 
age, he  hurried  back  to  Lincoln. 

He  found  Mrs.  Butler  greatly  recovered,  for  the 
seizure  was  not  a  severe  one,  but  it  was  an  unmis- 
takeable  warning,  and  he  seemed  to  realise  for  the 
first  time  how  slender  was  the  thread  of  life  that 
bound  them  together. 

No  one  who  knew  Dean  Butler,  and  saw  him  in 
his  family  circle,  could  fail  to  see  that,  great  as  was 
his  love  for  his  children,  his  affections  were  centred 
in  his  wife.  She  was  everything  to  him.  I  shall 
never  forget  the  change  I  noticed  in  him  when  I 
went  into  his  study  the  morning  after  bis  return. 
All  the  brightness  had  gone  out  of  his  face ;  he  spoke 
in  a  low  subdued  voice,  and  looked  like  one  who 
had  undergone  a  terrible  shock.  And  yet  the  days 
that  followed  were  in  some  respects  unusually  happy 
ones.  He  at  once  cancelled  all  his  immediate  en- 
gagements, and  devoted  himself  to  the  care  of  Mrs. 


1 894  HALCYON    DAYS  367 

Butler.  Sitting  beside  her  bed  and  reading  to  her  the 
first  volume  of  Dr.  Pusey's  Life — so  full  of  interest  to 
them  both — it  was  an  interval  of  calm  peaceful  hap- 
piness in  a  life  which  had  been  so  full  of  hard  work, 
and  so  much  interrupted  by  absences  from  home. 

Few  could  know  how  entirely  in  sympathy  with 
her  husband's  work  Mrs.  Butler  had  been  throughout 
her  married  life.  She  had  resolved  at  the  outset 
never  to  be  a  hindrance  to  him  in  his  clerical  duties, 
and  so  through  the  years  of  toil  at  Wantage  she  had 
been  content  to  lead  a  self-denying  life ;  to  forego 
many  of  the  pleasant  refreshments  which  sometimes 
sweeten  the  life  of  a  hard-working  clergyman's  wife ; 
to  see  but  little  of  him  during  the  day  when  he  was 
busy  in  the  schools  and  in  the  parish,  or  in  the 
evening  when  he  would  be  holding  classes.  And 
in  this  retired  life  not  many  knew  what  reason  her 
husband  had  to  be  proud  of  the  intellectual  powers 
which  she  never  sought  to  display.  She  had  an 
unusually  accurate  and  retentive  memory,  and  had 
received  a  thoroughly  good  education.  Before  her 
marriage  she  and  a  sister  had  made  various  transla- 
tions from  Fouque,  among  which  their  Sintram  was 
praised  by  J.  H.  Newman.  Mrs.  Butler  had,  more- 
over, a  singularly  clear  head  for  business,  and  had 
kept  not  only  all  the  domestic  but  also  the  paro- 
chial accounts,  setting  her  husband  absolutely  free 
from  all  financial  cares,  so  that  he  used  humorously 
to  relate  how  that,  since  his  marriage,  he  had  only 
once  drawn  a  cheque,  which  was  returned  with  the 
comment  "  Signature  not  known." 


368  THE   LAST   YEARS  1885- 

No  wonder  then  that  on  the  rare  occasions  when 
he  allowed  himself  to  contemplate  the  possibility  of 
losing  his  wife,  he  used  to  speak  of  his  future  life 
as  almost  too  wretched  to  be  borne.  "  I  don't  know 
what  I  should  do  without  Mrs.  Butler,"  he  said  to 
me  not  many  days  before  his  death. 

He  was  mercifully  spared  the  trial.  Mrs.  Butler 
had  recovered  from  the  immediate  effects  of  the 
seizure,  but  she  came  downstairs  an  invalid,  and 
obliged  to  lead  an  invalid's  life.  The  Dean  had 
already  begun  to  take  up  the  threads  of  his  inter- 
rupted work,  and  though  his  heart  was  heavy  he 
forced  himself  to  go  about  with  an  outwardly  cheer- 
ful face. 

But  he  felt  that  death  was  drawing  very  near. 
On  a  Sunday  in  December  "  he  came  out  of  the 
Cathedral  in  his  surplice,"  writes  a  near  relative, 
"  and  stood  between  the  greenhouses  looking  up  at 
the  central  tower.  '  What  a  grand  place  it  is  ! 
Well,  I  shall  soon  be.  lying  beneath  it.'  Then  with 
a  quick  change  of  manner,  and  looking  down  at  me 
with  a  half  smile,  '  And  then  everybody  will  say, 
He  wasn't  such  a  bad  chap  after  all.' ' 

He  was  greatly  grieved  at  the  death  of  Mr. 
Edward  Stanhope,1  for  whom  he  had  a  very  warm 
regard.  He  looked  upon  him  quite  as  a  realisation 
of  his  conception  of  what  a  good  man  should  be — a 
Churchman  and  a  patriot.  When  then  he  was  asked 
by  Mrs.  Stanhope  to  preach  on  the  first  Sunday  after 

1  Ed  ward  Stanhope,  Secretary  for  War,  M.P.  for   Lincolnshire, 
died  Dec.  1893. 


* 

I894  THE    LAST  ADDRESS  $69 

her  husband's  death,  he  willingly  consented,  though 
he  was  not  feeling  well.  On  Saturday,  December 
30th,  he  came  into  the  vestry  of  the  Cathedral  to 
tell  me  he  was  going  to  Revesby  that  afternoon, 
and  would  not  be  back  till  Monday  morning,  January 
1st,  and  spoke  to  me  about  the  seven  o'clock  Cele- 
bration of  Holy  Communion,  which  he  would  not 
be  able  to  take  himself  as  usual.  I  saw  him  next 
on  Monday  afternoon  when  he  came  to  Evensong, 
and  read  as  usual  the  second  lesson,  but  with  evident 
signs  of  illness.  After  Evensong,  as  it  was  the  Feast 
of  the  Circumcision,  he  gave  a  short  address  in  the 
retrochoir  on  "a  new  heaven  and  a  new  earth,"  with 
what  those  who  heard  it  described  as  something 

'  unearthly'  in  voice  and  manner.     His  last  words 

the  last  he  was  to  speak  in  the  Cathedral — were,  "I 
will  go  forth  in  the  name  of  the  Lord  God,  and  make 
mention  of  His  righteousness  only."  That  evening 
he  had  the  Cathedral  choristers  to  supper  at  the 
Deanery,  and  seemed  outwardly  bright  and  cheerful, 
but  he  confessed  that  he  felt  exceedingly  ill  and 
could  not  imagine  what  was  the  matter  with  him. 
I  said  he  ought  to  see  a  doctor,  but  he  only  smiled, 
and  said  he  should  soon  be  all  right  again.  He  took 
leave  of  me  at  the  front  door,  and  said  something 
about  Mrs.  Butler's  health  which  showed  how  it 
weighed  upon  his  mind. 

The  next  day  he  did  not  leave  his  room.  No  one 
had  any  feeling  of  serious  uneasiness,  and  no  unfav- 
ourable symptoms  showed  themselves,  though  his 
condition  remained  unchanged  till  Friday,  January 


2  A 


370  THE   LAST   YEARS  1885- 

5th,  when  he  caught  a  chill,  and  by  the  following 
morning  influenza,  which  was  already  in  the  house, 
had  declared  itself.  Still,  even  though  we  heard 
that  pneumonia  had  set  in,  we  did  not  realise  the 
danger.  He  had  always  seemed  so  strong  and  made 
so  liorht  of  illness  that  it  was  hard  to  believe  he  could 

o 

succumb  to  any  ordinary  attack.  But  the  pneumonia 
had  affected  both  lungs,  and  the  doctor  really  had 
but  little  hope. 

Up  to  this  point  he  had  still  been  working  in  his 
sick-room,  preparing  his  Revesby  sermon  for  publi- 
cation, and  answering  his  Christmas  letters.  The 
following  is  one  of  the  last  he  wrote  : 

W.  J.  B.  TO  

DEANERY,  LINCOLN,  Jan.  5,  1894. 

Thank  you  for  your  kind  Christmas  greeting,  which  alas ! 
I  have  been  utterly  unable  to  acknowledge  till  now,  so  vast 
a  heap  of  business  of  all  kinds  which  had  to  be  got  through 
was  lying  on  my  shoulders.  Now  I  am  regularly  laid  by,  with 
the  severest  throat  and  chest  attack  that  I  have  ever  had. 
I  can  hardly  speak  for  five  minutes  without  coughing  myself 
to  pieces.  I  am  in  my  bedroom,  and  there  likely  to  bide, 
especially  if  this  bitter  weather  holds  on.  Fortunately  all  that 
I  had  to  do — except  letters  which  I  can  manage — was  done 
before  /  was  done  for. 

I  hope  that  all  went  well  with  you  and  on  Christmas 

day,  and  that  you  have  taught  the  folk  that  Christmas  means 
more  than  roast  beef  and  pudding.  How  shocking  it  is  to  see 
how  the  world  has  snatched  from  the  Church  even  its  holiest 
days! 

Mrs.  Butler  (D.G.)  continues  to  mend.  You  would  not,  I 
am  sure,  perceive  that  she  had  ever  been  ill.  She  is  in  very 

good  force  and  spirits.  and ,  poor  dears,  have  enough 

to  think  about,  but  they  seem  to  stand  it  pretty  well.  .  .  . 


1894  FINIS  CORONAT   OPUS  371 

He  got  worse.  On  Tuesday,  the  9th,  I  was  sent 
for  to  administer  the  Holy  Communion  to  him  and  Mrs. 
Butler.  He  had  more  than  once  told  me  he  expected 
me  to  come  to  him  if  he  died  at  Lincoln,  because,  as 
he  said,  "  You  know  my  ways."  He  was  in  a  small 
bedroom  adjoining  Mrs.  Butler's,  and  I  only  saw  him 
when  I  went  in  to  give  him  the  Holy  Communion. 
Even  then  he  seemed  so  strong,  took  the  chalice 
in  so  firm  a  grasp,  that  I  never  imagined  the  end 
was  so  near.  The  next  day  a  doctor  from  Leeds 
came  to  consult  with  the  Lincoln  medical  man.  We 
heard  that  if  he  could  get  over  Sunday  he  might 
possibly  pull  through.  In  the  course  of  the  week 
the  Bishop  said  to  him,  "It  is  worth  while  to  be 
ill  for  Dr.  Pusey,"  referring  to  a  Review  of  Dr. 
Pusey's  Life  on  which  he  had  been  working,  though 
feeling  the  strain  in  the  midst  of  all  his  other  work ; 
he  responded  with  a  bright  look. 

Through  Saturday  night  I  sat  up  at  the  Deanery 
in  case  he  should  pass  away  suddenly.  All  hope 
was  then  over.  Early  on  Sunday  morning  the 
doctor  told  him  of  his  hopeless  state.  He  hardly 
at  first  seemed  to  comprehend  it,  for  his  strength 
was  still  very  great.  The  fever  had  gone,  but  the 
lungs  were  both  clogged,  and  the  heart  was 
failing. 

I  went  to  him  soon  after  eight,  and  read  a  psalm 
and  some  prayers  from  the  "  Visitation  of  the  Sick." 
At  nine  I  went  at  his  desire  to  the  palace,  to  tell 
the  Bishop  he  was  dying  and  to  ask  him  to  come. 

The    Bishop   came   and    read    the    commendatory 


372  THE    LAST   YEARS  1885- 

prayer,  and  gave  him  his  blessing.  His  utterance 
was  much  impeded,  and  it  was  difficult  to  make 
out  clearly  what  he  said,  but  the  few  words  that 
fell  from  him  were  full  of  gratitude  and  affection 
and  calm  trust. 

I  had  to  go  to at  ten  o'clock  for  the  service, 

and  I  took  leave  of  him,  not  expecting  to  find -him 
alive  when  I  returned  at  one.  But  he  lingered  on 
in  full  consciousness,  and  said  farewell  to  his  wife, 
who  was  brought  from  her  sick-bed  to  see  him 
once  more.  He  gave  directions  that  any  flowers 
which  might  be  sent  after  his  death  should  be 
given  to  the  patients  at  the  County  Hospital. 
His  spirit  passed  away  just  as  the  bells  ceased  to 
ring  for  the  four  o'clock  service. 

The  next  Sunday,  January  21st,  Mrs.  Butler 
followed  him.  They  lie  in  the  Cloister  Garth,  in 
the  north-east  corner,  a  spot  he  had  marked  out 
for  himself  some  time  before.  After  his  wife's 
funeral  a  short  bright  peal  of  bells,  in  accordance 
with  the  Canon,  was  rung ;  and  some  people,  who 
were  more  accustomed  to  funeral  peals,  and  did 
not  know  the  reason,  were  perplexed.  A  maid- 
servant who  had  been  a  member  of  his  communicants' 
class  told  her  mistress  that  she  wondered  at  first, 
but  now  was  sure  they  did  it  for  joy,  because  the 
Dean  and  Mrs.  Butler  were  once  more  together. 

Among  the  many  letters  which  poured  in  after 
William  Butler's  death,  one  of  the  most  touching 
was  from  the  Cure  of  St.  Ouen,  whose  visit  to  Lincoln 


i894  LETTER  FROM    L'ABBE*   PANEL  373 

in  the  previous  year  has  been  mentioned.  He  was 
the  last  of  a  series  of  foreign  priests  with  whom  a 
friendship  had  been  established,  on  terms  of  mutual 
respect,  Christian  charity,  and  no  compromise. 

ST.  OPEN  DE  RODEN,  LE  28  Janvier,  1894. 

TRES-HONORE  MONSIEUR,— C'est  avec  des  larmes  dans  les 
yeux,  que  j'ai  lu  la  lettre  que  vous  avez  eu  la  tres-grande 
bonte  de  m'ecrire.  .  .  .  Pauvre  Monsieur  le  Doyen! 

Comme  je  le  ve"nerais,  comme  je  1'aimais  et  comme  je  le 
regrette !  Et  Madame  votre  si  respectable  mere,  quel  delicieux 
souvenir  j'avais  emporte  d'elle ! 

Je  crois  vraiment  que  la  nouvelle  d'un  de'ces  dans  ma  famille 
ne  m'aurait  pas  plus  vivement  impressionne  que  celle  de  la 
perte  si  inopinee,  si  inattendue  de  deux  personnes  amies  pour 
lesquelles  j'avais  un  veritable  culte  de  respectueuse  affection. 
Comme  vous  le  dites  si  bien  et  d'une  maniere  si  touchante,  ils 
sont  partis  tous  deux  dans  la  foi  d'une  Eglise  qui  repose  sur 
la  meme  fondation  que  la  notre. 

Oh  certes,  je  n'ai  pas  1'ombre  d'une  doute  qu'ils  n'aient  re9u 
tous  deux  dans  le  ciel  la  recompense  de  leur  foi  et  de  leurs 
admirables  vertus. 

Vous  permettrez  pourtant  a  ma  foi  catholique  romaine,  cette 
douce  consolation  de  prier  pour  le  repos  complet  de  1'ame  de  nos 
regrettes  defunts,  en  ofFrant  a  leur  intention  le  Saint  Sacrifice 
de  la  Messe.  Pour  que  vous  puissiez  vous  unir  de  loin  &  ma 
priere,  je  compte  dire  cette  Messe  a  St.  Ouen  Dimanche  prochain 
&  neuf  heures  en  presence  du  Tres-Saint  Sacrement  expose" 
solennellement.  .  .  . 

Agreez,  tres-honore^  monsieur,  1'hommage  de  mes  condolences 
les  plus  sympathiques  et  les  plus  respectueuses  en  N.-S.  J.-C. 

The  late  Kev.  T.  B.  PoUock  of  St.  Alban's, 
Birmingham,  noted  down  some  recollections  of 

O  ' 

a  long  friendship  before  he  too  passed  to  his 
reward : 


374  THE   LAST   YEARS  1885- 

.  .  .  What  St.  Alban's  owes  to  him  we  can  never  fully 
tell.  When  we  were  in  lowest  depths,  and  every  man's  hand 
and  voice  were  against  us,  and  we  had  hard  work  to  keep  any 
faith  in  the  future  of  what  we  were  trying  to  do,  he  came,  and 
was  the  means  of  turning  the  whole  course  of  things.  He 
had  preached  at  Holy  Trinity  for  E.  C.  U.  On  the  morning 
after,  he  came  to  the  early  Celebration  at  St.  Alban's,  and  break- 
fasted with  us.  This  was  about  twenty-seven  years  ago.  He 
went  into  the  whole  history  of  our  troubles  with  the  kindest 
interest,  and  braced  us  at  once  by  the  contagion  of  his  strong 
spirit.  He  spoke  to  Lord  Beauchamp,  who  visited  St.  Alban's, 
and  offered  to  be  one  of  the  trustees,  and  was  till  the  day  of  his 
death  an  active  friend  of  the  work,  with  his  influence  and  his 
offerings. 

We  were  in  heavy  debt,  and  some  of  our  lay  people  urged  the 
sale  of  St.  Patrick's  mission-room  and  schools.  Your  father  was 
the  means  of  sending  us  an  anonymous  offering  of  £1500,  which 
saved  what  now  promises  to  be  a  work  almost  as  large  as  that  of 
St.  Alban's. 

We  knew  well  how  much  he  was  in  demand,  and  felt  diffident 
about  asking  him  to  come  to  us  as  often  as  he  did ;  but  he 
always  came  when  he  could,  and  with  a  readiness  that  made  his 
help  more  valued.  Some  one  wrote,  I  think  in  the  Guardian, 
that  he  was  a  man  "  more  to  be  feared  than  loved."  This  was  to 
us  most  strange.  I  never  met  one  in  his  position  with  whom 
one  was  able  to  be  more  absolutely  at  one's  ease,  sure  of  his 
warm  kindness  of  heart.  He  never  '  pawed '  or  fondled  people, 
either  with  words  or  hands,  as  the  manner  of  some  is.  He  had 
stronger  and  more  manly  ways  of  showing  affection  and  winning 
it.  A  born  ruler  of  men,  no  one  ever  seemed  to  me  more  to 
recognise  the  '  authority '  under  which  he  was.  He  had  no 
patience  with  wilfulness  and  private  fancies,  and  used  constantly 
to  urge  the  carrying  out  in  its  thoroughness  of  the  system  of 
the  Church  which  entrusted  us  with  a  commission.  Some  years 
ago  he  expressed  great  concern  at  the  new  notions  about  fasting, 
which  he  said  were  becoming  common.  He  said  he  Avould  like 
greatly  to  see  Dr.  Pusey,  who  first  taught  him,  and  ask  what 
his  feeling  was  about  the  change.  Fasting  used  to  be  looked 
upon  as  a  discipline  and  self-denial,  but  now,  even  in  religious 
houses,  it  was  becoming  merely  a  matter  of  formal  obedience, 


1894  THE   LINCOLN    MEMORIAL  375 

and  the  most  dainty  and  luxurious  food  was  provided,  all  being 
thought  right,  if  only  meat  was  avoided.  When  the  Dean 
was  with  us  during  the  week  of  the  Congress  in  Birmingham,  he 
was  as  cheery  as  a  boy  ;  but  he  often  said  things  that  plainly 
showed  a  feeling  that  his  life  was  not  to  be  long.  Talking 
one  day  he  said,  "  I  only  care  now  for  friends  and  books.  Any- 
thing else — give  it  to  Chimham."  And  twice  before,  when  he 
was  leaving  us  he  said,  "  I  always  think  now  when  my  visit 
to  you  comes  to  an  end,  that  it  is  my  last."  .  .  .  Many  feel 
with  me  that  his  friendship  was  indeed  a  blessing  for  which  to 
thank  God.  There  are  few  friends  to  be  found  so  true  and 
so  stimulating,  so  kind  and  so  strong.  May  God  raise  up  for 
this  Church  in  England  men  such  as  he  was.  ...  He 
was  with  us  about  the  time  that  he  left  Wantage  for  Worcester. 
I  remember  his  saying  that  people  told  him  that  the  work  at 
Wantage  would  go  to  pieces  without  him,  and  that  he  had 
replied,  "  Then  the  sooner  the  better,  for  if  so,  it  is  Butler  and 
not  Christ."  At  his  next  visit  he  told  us,  with  delight  in  his 
face  and  voice,  that  at  the  last  Christmas  there  had  been  more 
communicants  than  there  ever  were  in  his  time.  .  .  .  But 
for  the  help  which  he  obtained  for  us  to  save  St.  Patrick's,  our 
school  and  other  organisations  would  be  now,  as  far  as  we  can 
judge,  about  half  what  they  are.  We  indeed  owe  it  to  him  that 
we  are  about  to  build  another  church  nearly  as  large  as  St. 
Alban's,  with  its  complete  organisation. 

The  great  point  which  he  was  never  tired  of  urging  was  the 
duty  of  working  the  Church  system  as  laid  down  in  the  Book  of 
Common  Prayer.  This  he  was  convinced  would,  if  thoroughly 
used,  meet  all  needs  in  a  better  and  more  lasting  way  than 
the  new  and  exciting  methods  that  are  being  constantly 
invented. 

It  was  thought  fitting  that  the  Cathedral  to  which 
his  last  years  had  been  devoted  should  contain  a 
memorial  of  him ;  and  on  St.  Mark's  day,  April  25, 
1896,  the  Bishop  of  Ely,  in  the  presence  of  many 
friends,  unveiled  the  alabaster  effigy  on  an  altar 
tomb  which  had  been  erected  in  his  memory.  The 


376  THE    LAST   YEARS  1896 

inscription   summarises  the  character   which    it   has 
been  the  aim  of  this  book  to  portray. 


t 


In  pace  Dei  requiescat 

Pastor  animarum 

Sagax  simplex  strenuus 

Willelmus  Johannes  Butler  S.T.P. 

Ecclesiae    huiusce    Cathedralis    decanus 

Qui  natum  se  atque  renatum 
Non  sibi  sed  Christo  ovibusque  Christi  ratus 

Austera  quadam  caritate 
Labore  indefesso  assidua  prece 

Id  egit 

Domi  foris  validus  segrotans 

Ut  amorem  Dei  erga  peccatores  testatus 

A  peccatis  reduces  in  amore  Dei  confirmaret. 


APPENDIX  I. 

EXTRACTS  FROM  'SPIRITUAL'  LETTERS. 

I  SUPPOSE  that  different  people  find  comfort  and  help  in 
different  manners.  To  me  nothing  is  more  stirring  than 
the  lives  of  men  who  have  nobly  served  our  Lord — e.g.  Bishop 
Gray,  or  Patteson,  or  St.  Charles  Borromeo,  or  Gratry  (La 
Jeunesse  du  Pere  G.),  or  Montalembert.  They  help  one,  I 
think,  to  long  and  to  try.  To  St.  Paul  the  thought  of  our 
Lord  "Who  loved  me,  and  gave  Himself"  had  an  inspiring  force. 

Wandering  thoughts  are  a  trial  to  every  one.  The  great 
test  of  spiritual  progress  is  not,  I  think,  freedom  from  them, 
but  power  to  resist  temptation.  If  you  find  that  you  have 
more  power  over  your  tongue — more  ability  to  restrain  a 
satirical  remark — or  at  least  more  consciousness  of  its  evil, 
and  regret  for  it  after  giving  way ;  or  again,  if  you  find 
yourself  more  ready  to  make  sacrifices  for  others'  sake,  in  one 
word,  more  unselfish,  or,  if  you  are  more  careful  to  give  the 
right  time  to  prayer,  whether  or  not  the  thoughts  may  be 
distracted.  All  these  and  such  as  these  are  tests.  Feelings 
are  worth  almost  nothing.  Do  you  know  Newman's  sermon 
"On  the  Use  of  Excited  Feelings"?  It  is  well  worth  reading. 
I  think  that  it  is  in  Vol.  IV.  The  great  help  to  spiritual  pro- 
gress is  the  gaining  a  deep  sense  of  God's  love,  referring  all 
to  Him,  resting  on  His  love.  I  believe  that  people  become 
good  much  more  by  looking  out  of,  than  into,  themselves. 
"Beholding  as  in  a  glass  the  glory  of  God,  we  are  changed 
into  the  same  image,"  etc.  We  cannot  become  good  by  self- 
analysis.  That  will  indeed  show  us  our  own  sinfulness,  but 


378  APPENDIX    I 

it  is  the  bringing  the  soul  under  the  light  of  God's  counten- 
ance which  enables  it  to  slough  off  evil,  and  to  develop  good, 
just  as  the  sun,  not  the  gardener's  broom,  frees  the  soil  from 
the  damp  of  dew. 

Every  one  makes  progress  who  means  to  do  so.  This  is  a 
great  law.  The  stone  is  always  rolled  away  at  the  proper 
time.  But  then  we  must  climb  the  hill.  That  means  effort. 

After  all,  what  is  food  but  medicine,  and  I  cannot  see  why 
it  is  more  sinful  to  eat  a  slice  of  mutton  than  to  take  a  dose 
of  quinine  or  of  cod-liver  oil.  Of  course  I  quite  accept  that 
some  sort  of  fasting  is  needful.  We  are  bound  to  obey  the 
Church.  We  are  wise  to  subdue  our  flesh,  and  to  strengthen 
the  will  by  such  mortifications  as  we  can  manage  without 
injury  to  health.  But  there  I  make  my  stand.  I  will  never 
give  in  to  the  fish  and  pudding  theory  versus  meat.  It  seems 
to  me  both  superstitious  and  dangerous.  But  there  is  much 
to  be  said  on  this  subject,  partly  limiting,  partly  explanatory. 

Do  not  fret  about  '  deep  feelings.'  The  great  thing  is  simply 
to  be  desirous  to  do  God's  will.  Feelings  are  not  under  our 
control,  at  least  they  are  so  only  in  a  limited  degree.  They 
are  more  physical  than  spiritual,  though  people  lay  so  much 
stress  on  them  and  imagine  because  they  have  susceptible 
nerves,  they  are  in  the  road  to  heaven.  "  In  quietness  and 
confidence  shall  be  your  strength."  Hurrell  Froude  somewhere 
says  that  he  wishes  to  be  a  'hum-drum.'  There  is  a  great 
deal  in  that.  He  means  that  he  admires  those  who  just  go 
on  from  day  to  day  doing  their  natural  work,  and  not  fidget- 
ing or  fussing,  simply  trusting  to  God  as  a  merciful  and  loving 
Father,  Who,  if  He  meant  to  slay  us,  would  not  accept  "  a 
burnt-offering  at  our  hands." 

Lent  is  an  excellent  time  for  a  fresh  start,  and  such  starts 
and  beginnings  do  really  make  up  our  poor  earthly  life,  and 
we  must  be  satisfied.  "  There  is  no  condemnation  for  those 
which  are  in  Christ  Jesus,  who  walk  not  after  the  flesh,  but 
after  the  Spirit."  Read  all  that  chapter,  Romans  viii.,  very 
carefully.  It  is  a  wonderful  exposition  of  the  Christian's  real 
condition.  To  walk  after  the  Spirit  does  not  imply  perfectness 


EXTRACTS   FROM  'SPIRITUAL'  LETTERS          379 

of  life,  but  the  aiming  after  it— the  following  such  light  as 
we  possess  with  such  strength  as  we  possess.  I  believe  greatly 
in  all  that  unites  the  soul  in  love  to  God— the  use  of  psalms, 
prayer,  meditation,  short  ejaculations  and  aspirations,  the  Holy 
Eucharist.  These,  together  with  humble  confession  of  sins, 
seem  to  me  such  as  cannot  fail  to  bring  the  soul  into  the 
divine  image.  This  is  why  it  is  very  important  to  make  our 
prayers  a  reality. 

God  does  not  mean  that  His  children's  lives  should  be 
one  long  fret  and  vexation,  though  He  does  mean  them  to  be 
a  battle.  Yes,  a  battle,  but  with  the  certainty  of  victory,  if 
only  the  struggle  is  maintained.  The  victory  is  of  Him  and 
His  grace,  but  our  will  and  effort  must  co-operate.  Or  perhaps 
one  should  rather  reverse  the  sentence,  and  say  that  His  grace 
co-operates  with  our  effort.  When  our  Lord  speaks  of  peace, 
He  means  what  we  call  happiness. 

Touching  Holy  Communion,  do  you  know  Sadler's  little 
book  ?  It  seems  to  me  to  be  remarkably  good  and  sens- 
ible, like  all  that  he  writes.  I  always  think  that  the  best 
and  safest  plan  is  to  make  preparation  part  of  daily  prayers, 
adding,  it  may  be,  some  special  devotion  on  the  days  when  one 
communicates.  This  seems  to  keep  the  soul  in  a  quiet  and 
orderly  condition,  ready  for  whatever  comes.  In  former  days, 
when  Celebrations  were  few  and  far  between,  the  week's  pre- 
paration or  the  month's  preparation  was  greatly  needed,  but  with 
our  happily  frequent  Communions,  it  is  best  I  think  to  live 
always  in  a  state  of  preparation.  And  what  is  better  than  this 
for  us  who  know  not  when  the  Master  cometh?  To  be  pre- 
pared for  Holy  Communion  is  to  be  prepared  for  seeing  Him 
as  He  is. 

The  truth  is  that  what  is  called  the  world,  is,  like  the 
kingdom  of  heaven,  something  within  ourselves.  If  our  hearts 
are  worldly,  we  might  be  worldly  in  a  Trappist  monastery. 
If  our  hearts  are  not  worldly,  then,  like  Mrs.  Godolphin,  we  may 
be  saints  in  the  midst  of  a  profligate  court  like  that  of  Charles 
II.  Of  course  there  is  a  limit  to  lawfulness  in  amusements, 
etc.  They  may  be  such  as  injure  the  soul,  or  they  may  be 
innocent,  yet  too  much  sought  after  and  indulged  in.  In  which 
case  we  ought  to  draw  in  the  reins  pretty  tightly. 


38o  APPENDIX   I 

There  is  no  patent  road  to  prayer.  Nothing  but  effort 
will  attain  it,  and  self-humiliation  for  failure.  Praying  is  like 
springing  from  the  ground.  Do  what  we  will,  except  in  some 
very  special  cases,  the  earth  draws  us  downwards.  And  there- 
fore we  can  only  pray  as  it  were  by  leaps.  But  then  we 
know  that  God  accepts  the  will  for  the  deed ;  and  growth 
is  'how  a  man  knoweth  not.'  It  is  certainly  not  measured 
by  feeling,  but  by  the  power  of  resisting  temptation. 

I  do  not  know  what  to  say  about  '  Guardian  Angel.'  I  do 
not  use  such  devotions  myself,  nor  do  I  think  that  any  good 
comes  from  it;  we  know  so  little.  Why  not  cling  to  our 
blessed  Lord  ?  Pray  Him  to  give  His  angels  charge.  Surely 
that  will  do. 

There  are  no  patent  recipes  for  getting  rid  of  one's  faults. 
French  polish  looks  well,  but  does  not  last.  Elbow  work 
does.  So  it  is  with  our  characters.  Dodges  and  artifices,  like 
teetotalism,  do  not  hold  on.  There  is  nothing  for  it  but 
watchfulness,  effort,  and  self-humiliation,  continually  carried 
on  through  life. 

I  do  not  think  that  any  one  can  be  better  off  than  where 
God  places  her.  He  can  save  by  few  as  well  as  by  many, 
and  there  is  great  danger  in  these  days  lest  people  should  get 
the  habit  of  resting  on  means  of  grace,  and  imagining  that  if 
without  their  own  fault  they  are  deprived  of  them,  they  cannot 
get  on.  God  gives  His  grace  to  all  who  are  obedient.  And 
obedience  consists  in  seeking  means  of  grace  when  they  can  be 
had,  and  putting  up  with  the  privation  of  them  when  it  is  God's 
will  that  this  should  be  the  case.  The  meat  with  which  the 
angel  fed  Elijah  lasted  for  forty  days.  I  am  not  at  all  sure  that 
many  of  those  who  are  connected  with  confraternities,  etc.,  are 
the  better  for  it.  There  are  no  better  Christians  than  the  old- 
fashioned  folk  who  made  it  a  point  to  read  every  day  the 
Psalms  and  Lessons. 

I  suppose  that  this  may  be  rightly  said :  that  no  one  who 
tries  to  be  good,  or  who  mourns  and  humbles  herself  for  sin, 
can  possibly  be  cast  away.  God  does  not  look  for  victory  in 


EXTRACTS    FROM  'SPIRITUAL'  LETTERS          381 

us,  but  for  effort.  When  there  is  effort  His  Holy  Spirit  is 
working  with  us,  and  none  can  pluck  us  out  of  His  hands. 
The  best  course  in  most  cases  is  simply  to  go  on  working, 
praying,  striving,  and  not  speculating;  trusting  simply  and 
implicitly  to  His  mercy  and  love,  by  means  of  which  all  must 
in  the  end  come  right.  I  own  that  I  dread  and  dislike 
extremely  all  theories  of  purgatory  and  the  like.  Be  prac- 
tical and  let  imagination  alone.  The  only  use  of  purgatory 
in  the  Roman  Catholic  teaching  has  been  (1)  to  fill  the  coffers 
of  Leo  X.;  (2)  to  bring  on  the  Reformation ;  neither  of  which  is 
satisfactory. 

Do  not  worry  yourself  about  Church  matters.  "Pray  for 
the  peace  of  Jerusalem,"  and  let  all  the  rest  alone.  All  is 
sure  to  go  well.  "  The  waves  of  the  sea  are  mighty,  and  rage, 
but,"  etc.  /  think  that  Mr.  Keble's  sermons,  all  and  each,  are 
as  precious  as  gold  filings. 

I  never  trouble  myself  about  speculative  questions.  The 
only  thing  that  I  care  for  is  to  try  to  be  good  as  far  as  I 
may  myself,  and  to  help  others  to  be  the  same.  Given  that 
and  all  will  be  well.  You  know  "Justum  et  tenacem  propositi 
virum,"  etc.,  or  if  you  do  not,  get to  translate  it  to  you. 

Who  can  define  or  limit  the  power  of  the  grace  of  God 
in  any  soul  ?  This  is  quite  certain,  that  "  to  them  that  knock 
it  shall  be  opened,"  but  it  does  not  follow  that  they  may 
not  have  to  knock  for  a  long  while,  nor  even  that  they  will 
attain  in  this  present  life.  Our  work  is  simply  to  continue 
the  struggle,  to  aim  at  the  highest  standard  which  God 
presents  to  our  minds,  and  to  leave  it  to  Him  to  open  the  way. 
I  think  that  it  is  quite  wrong  not  to  believe  Holy  Scripture, 
or  to  try  to  tone  it  down  to  suit  man's  feelings  and  wishes ;  and 
when  our  Lord  says,  "These  shall  go  away  into  everlasting 
punishment,  but  the  righteous  into  life  eternal,"— the  word  for 
everlasting  and  eternal  being  exactly  the  same  in  the  Greek — 
how  can  I  believe  anything  but  that  one  is  correlated  with  the 
other,  the  punishment  of  the  wicked  with  the  happiness  of  the 
good  ?  Such  speculations  can  do  no  good,  and  may  do  an  infinity  of 
harm.  Let  all  alone,  and  look  to  God  to  make  all  things  right. 


382  APPENDIX   I 

The  prayer  for  invocation  of  the  Holy  Spirit  is  not  essential 
to  consecration.  What  is  essential  is  to  use  the  words  and  do 
the  acts  with  which  our  Lord  instituted  it.  This  is  admitted 
on  all  sides.  No  doubt  such  invocation  is  reverent  and  right, 
and  it  is  through  the  influence  of  the  Holy  Spirit  that  our 
Lord's  Body  is  with  the  bread  and  wine,  even  as  the  divine 
nature  was  united  with  the  manhood  in  the  Incarnation.  This  is 
the  opinion  of  theologians,  and  it  ought  to  be  enough  for  us. 
Touching  the  translation  of  the  Bible.  Wait  a  little.  Let  us 
see  what  is  to  come.  Of  course  it  cannot  be  accepted  without 
the  consent  of  Convocation,  and  that  consent  is  not  very  likely 
to  be  given.  In  all  these  matters  the  great  thing  is  not  to  be 
in  a  hurry  to  judge  or  to  form  conclusions. 

I  do  not  think  it  necessary  to  explain  the  "sun  standing 
still."  Perhaps  it  simply  means  that  there  was  light  even 
when  the  sun  went  down,  that  the  result  was  as  if  it  stood 
still.  The  Bible  does  not  profess  to  give  lessons  in  astronomy. 
So  also  the  shadow  on  the  dial  might  have  receded,  without 
altering  the  actual  movement  of  the  earth.  These  difficulties 
are  the  merest  nothings  when  you  come  to  tackle  them.  They 
remind  me  of  a  donkey  who  when  he  read  that  God  created 
great  whales  (Gen.  i.  21),  suggested  that  therefore  He  did  not 
create  the  little  ones.  I  do  not  say  that  you  are  a  donkey, 
but  that  he  was. 

I  think  that  it  is  quite  lawful  to  attend  R.C.  churches  abroad. 
That  is  the  Church  of  the  country.  We  have  never  excom- 
municated Rome,  and  it  is  quite  open  to  them  to  communicate 
with  us,  if  the  Pope  allowed  it.  It  is  true  that  they  will  not 
receive  us  to  Communion.  But  what  they  will  permit  us  to 
advantage  ourselves  by,  i.e.  presence  at  Mass,  etc.,  we  are  quite 
justified  in  accepting,  so  far  as  I  can  see. 

Why  do  you  ask  such  questions  as  Solomon  could  scarcely 
have  answered  to  the  Queen  of  Sheba  1  It  is  far  better  to  leave 
all  that  sort  of  thing  in  God's  hand.  He  knows  best,  and  it  is 
quite  certain  that  He  will  call  none  away  till  it  is  best  that  they 
should  be  called  away.  How  can  we  tell  what  refining  of  the  soul 
goes  on  in  paradise,  or  even  in  eternity  ?  No  one,  as  I  believe,  can 


EXTRACTS    FROM   'SPIRITUAL'   LETTERS         383 

be  lost  who  acts  according  to  his  conscience,  or  when  he  fails  to 
do  so,  laments  and  repents.  Neither  will  any  be  lost  who 
commit  sin  without  knowing  what  sin  is.  But,  as  I  said,  it  is 
useless  to  attempt  to  dive  into  mysteries.  God  gives  us  all  the 
knowledge  that  is  needful  for  our  own  edification.  That  is 
enough  for  us. 

Your  paper  is  very  good  as  far  as  it  goes,  but  it  is  in- 
complete. You  omit  the  most  important  part  of  our  Lord's 
redeeming  work.  He  came  to  sanctify  as  well  as  to  justify, 
and  this  should  never  be  omitted.  The  world  likes  to  be  told 
that  Christ  came  to  die  for  sinners,  and  that  to  believe  is  to 
be  saved.  But  they  do  not  like  the  idea  of  being  made  good, 
because  this  costs  them  trouble.  Any  statement  of  our  Lord's 
work  therefore  which  omits  this  plays  into  the  world's  hands. 
And  again,  what  is  the  meaning  of  'Justification'?  How  was  it 
brought  about1?  Not  by  suffering,  but  by  obedience,  Rom.  v.  19. 
His  obedience  involved  suffering,  but  it  makes  all  the  difference 
to  our  idea  of  God,  whether  you  state  that  He  must  have 
obedience,  or  that  He  required  a  sort  of  vengeance  on  sinners 
in  Christ's  sufferings. 

After  much  anxious  consideration  and  consultation  I  came  to 
the  conclusion  that  it  is  absolutely  impossible,  without  breaking 
our  Lord's  distinct  ordinance,  for  certain  people  not  to  take  some 
slight  amount  of  food  before  communicating.  If  you  care  to  see 
a  letter  from  Dr.  Pusey  on  the  subject,  whose  opinion  I  esteem 

more  than  Mr. ,  good  and  learned  though  he  is,  ask  - 

to  send  it  to  you.  We  must  not  attempt,  as  things  are  with  us, 
to  be  guided  by  the  rules  of  either  the  Primitive  or  the  Roman 
Church.  I  wish  heartily  that  it  were  otherwise,  and  where  the 
old  rule  can  be  observed  with  impunity  to  health  I  always  re- 
commend and  enjoin  it. 

I  am  sorry  that  you  have  no  early  Celebration  at .      It  is 

far  better  to  receive  early  than  late.  But  if  you  cannot  gain  this, 
then  take  what  food  is  absolutely  needful  to  prevent  you  from 
being  unwell,  and  commit  yourself  to  God's  mercy  and  love, 
owning  to  Him  your  weakness,  and  praying  Him  to  bring  about 
in  His  goodness  a  more  Christian  and  reverent  state  of  things  in 
the  parish  where  you  live. 


384  APPENDIX    I 

It  seems  to  me  that  St.  Matthias's  history  ought  to  help  us  and 
give  us  courage.  "The  lot  is  cast  into  the  lap,  but  the  whole 
disposing  of  it  is  of  the  Lord."  In  other  words,  all  we  have  to 
do  is  our  best,  then  quietly  to  leave  the  rest  to  Him,  not  fretting 
or  vexing  at  misfortune  or  ill  success.  He  can  take  care  of  His 
own  work.  We  must  take  care  that  we  do  our  best ;  if  this  be  so 
we  shall  have  an  equal  reward  with  the  most  successful.  And  as 
in  the  case  of  St.  Matthias,  whose  election  I  daresay  disappointed 
the  friends  of  Barsabas,  that  which  seems  to  us  disastrous  often 
is  in  truth  the  very  best  thing  for  the  cause  which  we  are  trying 
to  benefit. 

I  am  inclined  to  think  that  knitting,  etc.,  are  not  good  works 
for  Sunday.  I  do  not  say  that  there  is  anything  actually  sinful 
in  knitting  on  Sunday.  But  it  seems  to  me  that  it  is  very  im- 
portant to  give  Sunday  a  peculiar  character,  i.e.  the  character  of 
a  day  set  apart,  so  far  as  we  can  set  it  apart  from  other  days,  for 
enabling  the  soul  to  hold  special  converse  with  God.  It  is  true 
that,  formed  as  we  are,  we  cannot  keep  the  mind  long  in  close 
relation  to  heavenly  things;  but  it  is  greatly  helped  in  doing 
this  by  external  arrangements,  such  as  closing  the  shops,  avoid- 
ance of  the  ordinary  daily  occupations,  etc.  Moreover  it  is  very 
important  to  do  nothing  which  may  be  misinterpreted  by  those 
around  us,  which  may  lead  them  to  take  liberties  with  what  is 
on  the  whole  an  edifying  English  custom,  even  though  injured  and 
made  grotesque  by  Puritanism. 


APPENDIX   II. 

ABSTRACTS  OF  PAPERS  READ  AT  CHURCH  CON- 
GRESSES  IN  1869,  1877,  1879,  1883,  1888,  AND  1893.1 

AT  the  Liverpool  Church  Congress  of  1869,  Mr.  Butler  read  a 
paper  on  the  "  Improvement  of  the  Church's  Services  :  how  to 
Increase  Attendance  at  them." 

In  this  paper  he  begins  by  deploring  the  large  numbers  in 
towns  like  Birmingham  and  Liverpool  who  are  untouched  by  the 
Church's  ministrations;  he  declines  to  believe  that  Disestablish- 
ment (which  some  good  Church  people  were  at  that  time,  it 
would  appear,  ready  to  welcome)  would  make  things  any  better; 
— Mr.  Butler  pointed  to  the  Colonies  in  support  of  his  contention 
— and  then  he  goes  on  to  advocate  a  greater  elasticity  in  services 
conducted  in  mission  rooms  and  chapels ;  he  would  have  the 
litany  as  a  separate  service  in  the  evening,  or  a  metrical  litany 
and  a  sermon,  something  simple  and  easy  to  follow  for  those  (and 
he  admits  there  are  many)  for  whom  matins  and  evensong  are  too 
elaborate. 

But  the  most  remarkable  part  of  this  paper  is  undoubtedly  his 
outspoken  utterance  on  behalf  of  restoring  the  Holy  Eucharist 
to  its  proper  place  in  the  public  services.  "Why,"  he  asks, 
"  have  we  discarded  it  from  this  its  due  prominence  and  special 
character,  thrusting  it  into  the  end  of  a  long  morning  service  of 
prayers,  psalms,  hymns,  sermon,  when  both  the  heart  and 
head  are  wearied?  We  complain  of  the  comparatively  small 
number  of  our  attached  church-goers :  may  we  not  trace  it  to 
this  fact1?  Observe  I  am  not  advocating  that  the  Holy  Com- 
munion should  be  thrust  as  it  were  on  all,  that  all  whether  fit 
or  unfit  should  be  present  at  that  most  solemn  service ;  but  that 
all  should  have  the  opportunity  of  taking  part  in  it,  according 

1  By  Rev.  Canon  Randolph,  Principal  of  Ely  Theological  College. 

2B 


386  APPENDIX   II 

to  the  ancient  and  catholic  rule  of  the  Church,  at  least  once 
weekly." 

"From  Justin  Martyr  downwards,"  he  says  a  little  before,  "in 
one  unbroken  tradition,  as  every  one  who  has  the  slightest  know- 
ledge of  ecclesiastical  history  cannot  fail  to  perceive,  all  writers 
describe  this  as  the  service  of  the  Church,  that  to  which  all 
others  are  mere  subsidiary  handmaids." 

Among  the  speakers  who  followed  the  reading  of  the  papers 
were  the  Hon.  C.  L.  Wood  (now  Lord  Halifax)  and  the  Rev.  Dr, 
Littledale,  both  of  whom  strongly  supported  Mr.  Butler's  utter- 
ance about  the  Holy  Communion. 

The  paper  read  at  the  Church  Congress  of  1877  was  on  the 
temperance  question.  It  is  very  characteristic  of  the  writer,  and 
illustrates  the  line  he  took  throughout  his  life  on  this  difficult 
subject. 

After  some  apology,  feeling  no  doubt  that  he  was  in  a 
minorit}^  he  boldly  announces  himself  opposed  to  all  the  three 
great  remedies  usually  proposed  by  temperance  reformers  ;  he  is 
against  legislation,  against  the  formation  of  a  Church  Temperance 
Society,  and  against  those  who  preach  total  abstinence  for 
every  one. 

He  is  against  legislation,  because  "  sumptuary  laws  have  had 
their  day.  They  belong  to  that  against  which  the  free  heart  of 
England  will  ever  rebel,  which  is  called  a  paternal  government. 
Let  us  not  forget  that  while  swaddling  clothes  no  doubt  keep 
children  out  of  mischief,  they  also  restrain  the  free  growth  of  the 
limbs.  And  I  venture  to  contend  that  there  is  a  certain  discip- 
lining of  man's  nature,  which  is  to  be  found  in  resisting 
temptation,  and  which  cannot  be  obtained  when  temptation  is 
altogether  withdrawn."  To  illustrate  this  point  he  contrasts 
(following  Montalembert  in  the  Avenir  politigue  d 'Angleterre}  the 
system  of  espionage  at  a  French  Jesuit  College,  with  the  freedom 
of  an  English  public  school. 

He  is  against  temperance  societies,  for  there  must  always  be 
a  danger  in  isolating  one  sin  in  this  sort  of  way.  "  Why,"  he 
asks,  "  are  we  to  inculcate  temperance  only  in  drink  1  Does  not 
the  apostle  bid  us  to  be  '  temperate  in  all  things '  ?  What  is 
there  special  in  drunkenness  which  places  it  in  a  category  outside 
all  other  sins  1  Are  we  prepared  to  have  special  associations 
against  lying,  selfishness,  or  that  sin  of  the  flesh  which,  if 


PAPERS   READ  AT   CHURCH   CONGRESSES        387 

drunkenness  slays  its  thousands,  may  truly  be  said  to  slay  its 
tens  of  thousands — I  mean  the  sin  of  unchastity  ?" 

So  again,  "the  Church  herself  is  the  National  Temperance 
Association,  and  all  special  temperance  societies  got  up  within 
her,  tend,  I  humbly  submit,  to  obscure  that!  attribute  which 
equally  with  '  One,'  '  Catholic,'  and  '  Apostolic '  is  hers,  viz.,  that 
of  holiness,  her  right  to  exact  from  her  members  to  be  holy,  not 
in  one  thing  only,  but  in  all" 

He  is  against  total  abstinence,  though  as  a  "  kill  or  cure " 
remedy  he  would  allow  it  in  extreme  cases,  where  it  is  in  fact  the 
only  chance ;  but  he  deprecates  "  the  belief  that  it  is  necessary 
or  even  right  that  they  who  would  induce  others  to  be  sober 
should  themselves  entirely  abstain." 

Constructively  Canon  Butler  considers  that  higher  intelligence 
and  education,  bringing  with  them  higher  taste  and  refinement, 
will  do  much  for  the  lower  classes,  as  it  has  already  done  much 
for  the  higher  in  respect  to  this  temperance  question ;  the  lesson 
will  work  downwards  ;  he  advocates  clubs  and  reading-rooms, 
"not  on  too  strait-laced  principles."  "Let  lectures  be  given 
explaining  how  the  conditions  of  happiness  lie  in  habits  of  self- 
control.  .  .  .  Provide  two  things  which  too  often  are  not  to  be 
obtained,  good  pure  water,  and  real  honest  beer,  such  as  our 
brethren  in  Germany  enjoy,  making  it  penal — so  far  only  would 
I  invoke  the  aid  of  legislation — to  sell  the  poisonous  concoctions 
which  more  than  anything  else  cause  the  drunkenness  of  the 
working-classes ;  and  lastly,  inculcate  early  in  life  that  the  body 
is  the  temple  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  not  for  fleshly  defilement  of 
any  kind  whatever,  but  for  the  Lord,  and  the  Lord  for  the  body." 

Canon  Butler  read  a  paper  at  the  Swansea  Church  Congress 
in  1879,  on  the  congenial  subject  of  Parish  Organisation.  On 
a  subject  such  as  this  he  was,  it  need  not  be  said,  thoroughly 
at  home.  Every  word  was  dictated  by  recollections  of  his  own 
experience  as  a  parish  priest. 

"  The  longer  I  live  "—these  are  almost  the  opening  words  of 
his  paper — "  the  more  I  believe  in  the  rule,  '  stare  super  antiquas 
vias';  and  I  look  on  the  following  out  of  such  a  system  as 
the  Prayer  Book  suggests,  in  its  unpretentiousness  and  simplicity, 
as  of  infinitely  more  value  in  the  great  battle  with  evil  than 
some  of  the  more  showy  efforts  of  the  present  day." 

He  passes  at  once  to  the  great  question  of  the  schools,  ex- 


388  APPENDIX   II 

pressing  his  conviction  that  "well-organised  schools  lie  at  the 
very  foundation  of  all  good  parochial  work,"  and  that  "  no 
cajolement  or  threat  should  induce  the  pastor  to  suffer  his 
schools  to  pass  from  the  hands  of  the  Church."  He  asserts 
his  conviction  that  the  "battle  of  the  Church  is  to  be  fought 
in  the  schools,"  that  no  pains  should  be  spared  in  making 
them  efficient,  that  the  parish  priest  should  himself  take  a 
lively  part  in  their  working,  that  he  should  see  by  actual 
investigation  that  the  Catechism  is  thoroughly  learnt  and  under- 
stood, that  the  children's  private  prayers  are  said ;  that  he 
should  "  draw  round  himself,  and  not  leave  merely  to  the 
masters'  and  mistresses'  enforced  hours  of  instruction,  the 
pupil  teachers,  and  carefully  supervise  their  religious  teach- 
ing " ;  and  that  he  should  establish  between  himself  and 
the  head  teachers  the  relation  of  true  and  loving  friendship, 
"as  between  those  who  are  engaged  in  one  great  common 
work  for  the  glory  and  praise  of  God." 

He  speaks  appreciatingly  of  Guilds  for  deepening  the  spiritual 
life,  and  warns  against  the  snare  of  "  setting  quantity  before 
quality " ;  and  he  especially  emphasises  the  importance  of  com- 
municants' classes,  that  is,  of  classes  called  together  and 
regularly  prepared  for  Holy  Communion  every  month  :  they 
work  towards  this  special  end,  and  for  this  reason  they  have 
an  advantage,  he  thinks,  over  ordinary  Bible  classes.  They 
involve,  he  admits,  "intense  and  unremitting  labour":  "they 
must  be  carefully  arranged  and  adapted  with  a  view  to 
difference  of  age,  intelligence,  and  above  all,  to  those  nice 
grades  of  social  position  which  exist  among  the  people."  Such 
classes  will,  he  thinks,  nearly  cover  the  ground  of  many  other 
possible  organisations. 

There  follows  in  this  paper  a  characteristic  warning 
against  too  much  organisation :  "a  fussy  beating  up  of 
recruits  and  subscriptions,  writing  reports  and  rushing  from 
meeting  to  meeting."  He  pleads  for  loyalty  to  the  Prayer 
Book  specially  in  the  matter  of  daily  service  throughout 
the  year.  The  service,  he  insists,  said  daily  in  the  Church 
"organises  the  organiser,"  that  is,  the  clergyman  himself. 
"  It  keeps  him  to  his  work ;  it  provides  for  his  flock  an 
opportunity  of  finding  him  at  his  post;  it  spreads  over  his 
work  that  character  of  dutifulness  to  the  directions  of  the 


PAPERS    READ   AT   CHURCH   CONGRESSES         389 

Church ;  the  lack  of  which  lies,  as  I  think,  at  the  root  of  our 
most  pressing  difficulties."  He  insists  on  the  importance  of 
regular  visiting,  and  urges  that  no  machinery  or  organisation 
ought  to  be  allowed  to  supersede  the  pastor's  "own  regular 
and  loving  visits  to  his  flock."  "Of  this,"  he  says,  "I  am 
quite  sure  that  when  it  may  be  done,  even  as  Sir  Robert 
Peel  pressed  on  his  supporters  the  famous  advice  of  'Register, 
register,  register,'  so  visit,  visit,  visit,  not  by  proxy,  but  in 
person,  face  to  face  and  heart  to  heart,  should  be  the  parson's 
rule." 

In  speaking  of  Sunday  schools  he  quoted  a  letter  that  had 
reached  his  hands  from  an  '  earnest  and  capable  master,'  which 
so  well  illustrates  a  danger  well  known  to  parish  priests  that 
it  is  worth  while  to  transcribe  it  here: 

"I  fall  in  with  the  work  in  the  day  school  very  well,  and 
as  yet  I  have  had  no  difficulties  to  overcome.  My  great 
grievance,  however,  is  the  Sunday  school,  at  which  a  host  of 
ten  teachers  attend,  five  of  whom  are  good  ladies  from  the 
village.  It  is  hard  to  see  those  who  know  nothing  of  teaching 
take  the  authority  out  of  one's  hand,  and  undo  in  an  hour  or 
two  a  whole  week's  work.  The  kind-hearted  ladies  are  inclined 
only  to  smile  at  the  dear  little  bairns  when  they  are  at  all 
refractory,  or  engage  in  some  paltry  little  squabble ;  and  Johnny 
dear  is  told  that  his  lady  teacher  will  be  so  very  very  angry, 
if  he  persists  in  getting  over  the  desks,  or  speaks  impertinently 
to  his  kind  instructor.  I  am  deposed  from  the  position  of 
head  master  for  the  first  day  of  every  week." 

Mr.  Butler's  comment  is,  that  on  Sunday  "the  day  school 
should  be  carried  on — mutatis  mutandis — as  on  week-days, 
under  its  natural  teachers,  while  the  Sunday  school,  under  it- 
voluntary  teachers,  consisting  of  children  who  only  attend  on 
Sundays,  should  be  held  in  a  separate  room,  or,  better  still, 
as  so  many  separate  classes  in  private  houses." 

At  the  Church  Congress  at  Reading  in  1883,  Canon  Butler 
read  a  paper  on  Purity. 

The  special  department  of  the  subject  which  fell  to  his  lot 
was  the  prevention  of  the  degradation  of  women  and  children. 
The  paper  is  difficult  to  epitomise :  it  is  full  of  sympathy  and 
tenderness,  combined  with  simple  and  practical  suggestions  as 
to  how  best  to  help  those  who  need  help. 


390  APPENDIX  II 

There  is  a  passage  on  the  general  condition  of  society  which 
shows  how  keenly  alive  was  the  writer  to  the  great  dangers 
in  this  direction  : 

"In  speaking  of  woman's  degradation,"  he  says,  "let  us  not 
shut  our  eyes  to  the  general  condition  of  society.  There  is 
other  degradation  besides  that  which  obtrudes  itself  in  the 
streets.  Those  who  mix  much  with  the  world  mourn  over  a 
general  laxity  of  tone  which  seems  to  be  permitted — conversa- 
tion of  a  loose  and  suggestive  kind ;  theatrical  performances 
taken  from  the  free  and  immoral  literature  of  France ;  that 
which  some  years  ago  would  have  been  scouted,  now  witnessed 
and  enjoyed ;  French  novels,  where  evil  is  freely  set  forth 
and  spoken  of  as  good,  read  even  by  young  girls  growing 
into  womanhood ;  men  whose  lives  are  notoriously  profligate 
encouraged,  sometimes  even  by  mothers  ;  the  tie  of  marriage  no 
hindrance  to  dangerous  intimacies,  sometimes  not  falling  short 
of  gross  and  flagrant  sin.  If  this  is  not  degradation  of  women, 
it  is  difficult  to  say  what  it  is." 

The  central  portion  of  the  paper  is  taken  up  with  describing 
the  actual  state  of  the  law  in  regard  to  the  protection  of 
women ;  the  writer  points  out  clearly  where  legislation  is 
insufficient,  and  then  goes  on  to  speak  of  what  might  be  done, 
apart  from  legislation,  in  a  preventive  direction  by  private 
enterprise.  He  insists  on  the  much-needed  improvement  of 
dwelling-houses,  and  then  passes  on  to  speak  of  the  need  of 
great  caution  in  regard  to  mixed  schools.  A  small  tract, 
entitled  "A  Few  Words  to  School  Mistresses,"  published  by 
Hatchards,  is  recommended,  for  it  "  may  with  great  advantage 
be  placed  in  the  hands  of  teachers,  with  reiterated  warnings 
not  to  live  in  what  is  called  a  fool's  paradise,  but  to  be 
watchful  and  even  suspicious  of  every  approach  to  familiarity 
between  boys  and  girls." 

There  is  a  strong  plea  for  the  establishment  in  every  neigh- 
bourhood of  moderately-sized  industrial  schools  where  girls  may 
be  received  for  about  two  years  during  the  critical  period 
between  leaving  school  and  going  out  into  the  regular  work 
of  life,  when,  as  Mr.  Butler  so  truly  says,  "employers  of  the 
better  kind  decline  to  hire  them,  and  then  they  often  linger 
on  at  home,  or  accept  a  low  and  often  very  dangerous  kind 
of  situation." 


PAPERS   READ   AT   CHURCH    CONGRESSES        391 

In  these  proposed  industrial  schools  the  girls  may  be  well 
nurtured  and  trained,  "well  instructed  in  the  principles  of 
their  religion,  taught  to  pray,  to  respect  themselves,  to  believe 
in  and  to  love  God,  confirmed  and  made  regular  communicants; 
and  then,  and  not  till  then,  sent  out  to  fight  the  battle  of  life." 
In  what  he  says  here,  as  always,  the  writer  is  speaking  from 
the  background  of  his  own  wide  experience,  for  he  adds,  "  I 
know  what  can  in  this  way  be  done,  how  from  such  an  in- 
stitution there  may  be  sent  forth,  year  after  year,  a  stream  of 
high-toned,  high-principled  girls,  capable  and  trustworthy  as 
servants,  and,  so  far  as  is  possible  to  human  nature,  raised  into 
a  condition  of  thought  and  feeling  in  which  they  recoil  with 
horror  from  all  that  is  unmaidenly  or  impure." 

Canon  Butler  expresses  his  satisfaction  that  so  many  callings 
are  now  opened  to  women  which  were  formerly  closed  to  them, 
and  thinks  that  the  more  these  openings  are  multiplied,  "the 
more  that  women  are  incited  to  that  which  encourages  and 
•demands  propriety  of  demeanour  and  self-respect,  and  which 
provides  a  fair  means  of  living — the  more  will  woman  be  freed 
from  the  danger  which  so  grievously  besets  her  life." 

In  1888,  at  the  Church  Congress  held  at  Manchester,  the 
Dean  of  Lincoln  read  a  paper  on  the  "  Desirableness  of  Reviving 
the  Common  Religious  Life  of  Men." 

Dr.  Butler's  paper  was  unfortunately  lost  before  reaching  the 
publishers.  There  is,  however,  a  brief  summary  of  it  given  in 
the  Report  of  the  Congress,  which  we  reproduce  here  with 
little  or  no  alteration. 

The  writer  dealt  with  the  subject  as  applied  to  clergymen. 
He  described  what,  as  he  believed,  were  the  needs  of  the 
present  time  in  dealing  with  the  large  populations  of  our  great 
towns.  In  London  alone  were  four  millions  and  upwards 
of  people,  to  whom  about  six  hundred  clergy  ministered,  and 
they  not  distributed  in  a  manner  likely  to  hear  the  real  calls 
for  help.  Liverpool  in  like  manner  had  600,000  souls,  with 
seventy  clergymen.  Other  towns  also  told  the  same  tale, 
showing  that  the  present  parochial  system  was  utterly  in- 
adequate to  meet  the  demands  made  upon  the  clergy.  What 
must,  he  asked,  be  the  inevitable  result?  The  complete  chaos 
of  society,  the  falling,  as  too  many  symptoms  already  showed, 
into  a  condition  of  materialism  and  inutility  worse  than  the 


392  APPENDIX   II 

worst  days  of  barbarism.  They  wanted  some  means  of  dealing 
more  adequately  with  the  large  masses  of  the  population.  Was 
it  within  the  bounds  of  reason  and  common  sense  to  imagine 
that  the  great  problem  could  be  dealt  with  on  a  large  scale 
without  having  recourse  to  something  very  different  to  the 
methods  that  had  hitherto  been  tried  1 

He  suggested  that  religious  houses  should  be  established 
among  the  clergy  for  the  better  prosecution  of  evangelizing 
work.  When  he  ventured  to  speak  of  the  desirableness  of 
reviving  the  common  religious  life  of  clergymen,  it  was  because 
he  was  convinced  that  in  no  other  way  could  the  crying  needs 
of  the  Church  be  met.  Taking  the  very  lowest  ground,  it 
seemed  to  him  that  if  the  Church  was  in  any  way  to  fulfil 
her  great  trust  of  preaching  the  gospel  to  every  creature,  it 
could  be  effected  only  by  the  devotion  and  self-sacrifice  of 
men  who  would  consent  to  lead  a  celibate  life;  to  give  up, 
either  permanently  or  for.  a  stated  time,  much  of  that  which, 
to  use  a  common  expression,  sweetened  life ;  to  cut  them- 
selves off,  at  least  in  a  great  degree,  from  the  engagements 
and  expenses  of  ordinary  society,  and  dwelling  together  under  a 
aommon  roof  and  taking  their  meals  at  a  common  table,  would 
be  in  a  position  to  bring  to  bear  common  counsel,  common 
action,  and  common  intercession  upon  darkness,  and  ignorance, 
and  sin.  Men  thus  living  together  would  be  spared  the 
sense  of  loneliness  and  helplessness,  which  so  often  weighed 
down  the  spirits  and  paralysed  the  energies  of  men  who  from 
poverty  or  any  other  cause,  found  themselves  living  alone 
with  almost  no  support. 

He  would  suggest  that  those  who  would  offer  themselves 
for  this  common  life  should  bind  themselves  for  a  period  of 
not  longer  than  five  years,  which  might,  at  will,  be  renewable ; 
that  they  should  agree  honestly  to  follow  the  rule  which  the 
Prayer  Book  provided,  keeping  strictly  to  what  was  there 
laid  down,  to  the  feasts  and  fasts,  the  daily  service,  frequent 
Communion,  with  any  additional  services  for  which  they  might 
have  time  and  inclination.  The  dress  should  not  be  peculiar 
or  demonstrative,  and  the  diet  simple  and  plain,  but  sufficient. 
Such  societies  should  be  directly  under  episcopal  supervision, 
whether  as  regarded  the  central  or  parent  house,  or  the 
districts  in  which  its  members  laboured. 


PAPERS   READ   AT  CHURCH   CONGRESSES        393 

The  Congress  held  at  Birmingham  in  1893  was  the  last  at 
which  Dr.  Butler  appeared. 

The  subject  assigned  to  him  then  was  "  The  Ministry  of  the 
Laity,"  and  the  special  department  of  the  subject  which  fell  to 
his  lot  was  that  on  which  he  could  speak  with  paramount 
authority,  viz.,  Deaconesses  and  Sisters. 

The  paper  is  of  special  interest,  not  only  because  it  is  the  last 
which  the  Dean  read,  but  also  because  it  brings  out  in  a  very 
striking  and  beautiful  way  his  intense  appreciation  of  the 
'  religious '  life,  and  of  all  that  such  a  life  implies. 

He  begins  by  contrasting  the  favourable  and  grateful  recog- 
nition given  to  Sisterhoods  in  the  present  day,  with  the  way  in 
which  they  would  have  been  regarded  before  the  rise  of  the 
Oxford  movement.  Now  nearly  all  the  prejudice  against  such 
institutions  has  passed  away;  there  are  more  Sisters — more 
women  aiming  at  the  Religious  life  in  England  now  than  there 
were  before  the  Reformation,  and  now  not  merely  in  England,  but 
throughout  the  world — in  India,  Africa,  and  America,  English 
Sisters  are  at  work. 

"  A  Sister's  theory  of  '  vocation '  is  that  in  a  very  true  though 
ineffable  and  mysterious  manner  our  blessed  Lord  calls  to 
Himself  certain  souls,  who  for  His  sake  shall  give  up  all;  that 
He  infuses  into  such  souls  a  burning  desire  to  be  His,  a  true  love 
even  like^  the  love  of  man  to  woman,  or  of  woman  to  man,  only 
far  nobler  and  more  exalted ;  that  when  this  exists  in  any  soul 
it  finds  no  rest  till  it  has  given  itself  for  the  things  of  God ;  that 
this  vocation  is  not  to  this  or  that  work,  possibly  not  at  all 
to  what  is  called  work,  but  solely  to  be  His,  just  as  the  true  wife, 
without  reference  to  house  or  household  duties,  finds  in  him 
whom  she  loves  all  that  satisfies  her  heart.  So  the  Sister  is  her 
Beloved's,  and  her  Beloved  is  hers.  Willingly  for  His  sake  she 
labours ;  but  her  great  aim,  the  object  of  all  her  longing,  is  to  be 
altogether  His." 

As  to  vows,  Dr.  Butler  is  clear  as  to  their  intrinsic  reasonable- 
ness and  their  use. 

"  Let  me  be  permitted,"  he  says,  "  to  say  something  on  this 
very  delicate  and  controverted  question.  I  cannot,  after  much 
consideration,  sympathise  with  the  strong  objection  which  some 
excellent  people  hold  in  regard  to  vows.  I  quite  agree  that  where 
vows  are  permitted  to  be  taken  there  should  be  a  discretionary 


394  APPENDIX    II 

dispensing  power.  But  with  this,  which  surely  lies  within  the 
range  of  episcopal  jurisdiction,  I  cannot  see,  considering  the 
number  of  vows  which  are  accepted  on  all  hands  as  right  and 
proper— baptismal  vows,  repeated  in  confirmation ;  ordination 
vows,  marriage  vows,  and  that  which  is  so  strongly  urged  by 
many,  the  pledge  or  vow  of  abstinence  from  any  form  of 
alcohol — why  those  vows  are  to  be  looked  upon  as  evil  things, 
or  at  least,  as  full  of  danger,  whereby  men  or  women  of  mature 
age  offer  themselves  to  God." 

He  quotes  Jeremy  Taylor  in  support  of  his  contention  as  to 
the  legitimacy  of  vows.  "  It  hath  pleased  God  in  all  ages  of  the 
world  to  admit  of  intercourse  with  His  servants  in  the  matter 
of  vows." 

He  insists,  it  is  unnecessary  to  say,  on  the  wise  safeguard  of  a 
long  and  thorough  noviciate,  during  which  time  every  opportunity 
should  be  given  to  those  who  are  thinking  of  the  '  religious '  life 
of  clearly  understanding  the  difficulties  of  such  a  state ;  but,  after 
all  precautions  have  been  taken,  he  sees  no  reason  why  any  who 
wish  to  do  so  should  not  by  a  solemn  promise  or  vow  dedicate 
their  lives  to  God. 

Further,  he  insists  that  a  vow  has  distinct  advantages.  Like 
the  marriage  vow,  it  settles  the  question  for  good  and  all.  It 
quiets  that  restlessness  from  which  none  of  us  are  altogether  free. 
It  helps  the  '  religious '  to  bear  cheerfully  difficulties  which  "  are 
sure,  sooner  or  later,  to  crop  up."  As  in  marriage,  which  the 
religious  life  closely  resembles,  the  die  is  cast,  and  any  who  have 
cast  it  find  their  happiness  in  accepting  what  it  brings. 

Among  the  advantages  of  Sisterhoods  on  which  the  Dean  insists 
are  such  as  these — Continuity  of  work :  they  bring  with  them  a 
guarantee  for  at  least  such  perpetuity  as  is  possible  in  the  changes 
and  chances  of  life. 

The  moral  weight  and  power  which  is  ensured  by  discipline :  the  Sister 
sets  aside  her  own  private  likes  and  dislikes.  She  goes  whither 
she  is  sent.  All  that  is  given  her  to  do  is,  in  her  estimation, 
God's  work,  and  therefore  equally  good. 

The  knowledge  which  results  from  the  experience  which  a 
Community  gains  in  respect  to  methods  of  work.  Each  Sister  is 
trained  and  taught  how  to  act  under  various  circumstances ;  how 
to  enter  securely  the  haunts  of  vice  and  crime;  how  to  meet 
rudeness ;  how  to  maintain  an  uniform  self-control  and  gentleness ; 


PAPERS   READ   AT   CHURCH    CONGRESSES        395 

how  to  speak  a  word  in  season.  In  Penitentiary  work  especially 
(which  gave  the  first  main  impetus  to  the  growth,  in  these  later 
times,  of  the  Religious  life  in  the  Church  of  England)  experience 
has  proved  that  the  influence  of  Sisters  living  under  a  rule  is  of 
incalculable  value. 

At  the  conclusion  of  this  very  remarkable  paper  the  question 
is  discussed  how  far  and  under  what  conditions  the  Church  as  a 
whole  should  accept  such  institutions  as  Sisterhoods  and  Deacon- 
esses, and  the  main  answer  which  the  Dean  gives  to  this  question 
is  as  follows :  That  it  is  better  to  leave  such  institutions  to  feel 
their  way  and  to  be  proved  before  any  direct  interference  or 
recognition  is  given  them  on  the  part  of  the  Church.  For  the 
present  the  wise  course  is  to  leave  these  Communities  to  the  care 
and  wisdom  of  the  Bishops,  for  episcopal  supervision  is,  he  thinks, 
essential ;  and  he  does  not  consider  that  a  Community  is  formed  on 
a  solid  basis  where  the  Bishop  has  been  ignored,  any  more  than 
Communities  are  justified  in  altering  at  their  own  wish  and 
pleasure  the  services  of  the  Prayer  Book. 

The  paper  concludes  with  the  following  words  :  "  It  was  once 
said  to  me  by  one  of  another  Communion,  '  You  English  are  good 
people  in  your  own  way ;  you  have  a  good-natured  disposition, 
and  therefore  do  many  good  things,  and  abstain  from  much  that 
is  evil ;  but  you  do  not  accept  the  idea  of  grace,  or  know  what  it 
can  do  for  you.'  Here,  then,  in  these  religious  Communities  we 
have  the  answer.  We  may,  I  think,  truly  say  that  they  have 
taken  away  this  reproach  from  Israel. 

"Very  earnestly  I  pray  that  many  living  souls  may  be  enabled 
to  join  them,  to  partake  with  them  in  that  life  of  union  with  our 
blessed  Lord,  which  brings  with  it  true  joy  and  peace,  and  to  aid 
them  in  their  blessed  work  of  winning  souls  to  Him." 


INDEX. 


[In  the  following  Index  L  and  ff.  mean  following  pages,  and  n.  that  the 
reference  is  to  thejootnote  as  well  as  to  the  pages  indicated.] 


Aldworth,  Miss,  47. 
Allies,  T.  W.,  65. 
Amwell,  in  Herts,  5. 
Anderson,  Sir  Charles,  334. 
Andrewes,  Bishop,  309. 
Armstrong,  Rev.  John,  132. 
Arnold,  Dr.,  10,  21,  364. 
Ashington,  Miss,  140. 
Augustine's,  St.,  Missionary  Col- 
lege, 62. 

Bagot,  Bishop,  212. 

Baker,  Mrs.  Arthur,  vi. 

Balaton,  Rev.  E.,  10,  63. 

Barff,  Rev.  A.,  143,  220. 

Barry,  Canon,  303. 

Beauchamp,  Lord,  304,  314,  374. 

Beauclerk,  Mr.,  252,  261. 

Belson,  Rev.  Mr.,  248. 

Bennett,  Rev.  W.  J.  E.,  206,  209, 
215. 

Benson,  Archbishop,  of  Canter- 
bury, 172. 

Benson,  Father,  181. 

Berens,  Archdeacon,  95. 

Besson,  Pere,  286. 

Bismarck,  Count,  252. 

Blakesley,  Rev.  J.  W.,  63. 

Brackenbury,  Captain,  245,  251, 
255. 

Bradley,  Henry,  308. 

Bricknell,  Rev.  Simcox,  37. 

Bright,  Canon,  205  n. 


Bristol  Times,  55. 

British-  Critic,  212. 

Burgon,  Dean,  of  Chichester,  282. 

Bushnan,  Mr.,  263  f.,  267,  270. 

Butler,  Arthur  J.,  son  of  W.  J. 

Butler,  26. 

Emma,  wife  of  W.  J.  Butler, 
26,  30,  166,  219,  233,  277, 
287,  288,  295,  337,  366  f., 
368,  370  ff. 

Henrietta,  wife  of  J.  L.  Butler, 
1 ;  letters  to  her  son,  14,  18  ; 
death,  310. 

John  Laforey,  father  of  W.  J. 
Butler,  1 ;  failure  of  his  busi- 
ness, 17;  letter  to  his  son,  19. 
William  John,  birth,  1 ;  parents, 
1  ;  Queen's  Scholar,  West- 
minster, 3  ;  at  Trinity  Col- 
lege, Cambridge,  4  ff.  ;  pre- 
pares for  Holy  Orders,  18  ; 
engagement  to  Emma  Bar- 
nett,  26 ;  curacy  of  Putten- 
ham,  26 ;  marriage,  26 ;  in- 
cumbent of  Wareside,  27  ff. ; 
living  of  Wantage,  36 ;  goes 
to  Wantage,  46 ;  work  under 
Bishop  Wilberforce,  51,  53  ; 
life  at  Wantage,  56  f.,  71  ff. ; 
parochial  work,  107  ff.,  118 
ff. ;  elected  Bishop  of  Natal, 
225 ;  experiences  during  the 
Franco-German  war,  244-276; 


INDEX 


397 


proctor  in  convocation,  281 
ff.  ;  canonry  in  Worcester, 
293;  Dean  of  Lincoln,  312; 
life  at  Lincoln,  346  ff. ;  '  gold- 
en wedding,'  364 ;  death,  372; 
letters  :  to  his  father,  38  ;  to 
his  mother,  15,  309  ;  to  his 
sister,  15,  97,  98,  309,  334, 
344  ;  to  his  wife,  36,  46,  47, 
99,  194-204,  246-276  ;  on  the 
Gorharn  judgement,  80  ff.  ; 
see  also  Keble,  Liddon, 
Manning,  Wilberforce. 
Butterfield,  W.,  35,  57,  59,  65. 

Canning,  Rev.  William,  Canon  of 

Windsor,  26,  36,  39. 
Carter,  Canon  T.  T.,  78,  87,  94 ff., 

174,  183,  188,  212. 
Catechism,  Church,  on  the  teach- 
ing of,  49  f.,   87  f.,  Appendix 

II. 

Chamberlain,  63. 
Chambers,  Rev.  J.  C.,  188. 
Charlton,  hamlet,  56  f.,  67,  100. 
Church    congresses,   papers  read 

at,  Appendix  II. 
Church,  Dean,  178. 
Church  Times,  311. 
Churton,  Archdeacon  Ed.,  188. 
Clerke,  Archdeacon,  91. 
Clutterbuck,  Rev.  J.  C.,  283. 
Coddington,   Rev.    H.,   sometime 

Vicar  of  Ware,  27. 
Coles,  Rev.  V.  S.  S.,  reminiscences 

by,  174-222. 

Colenso,  Bishop,  195,  223  ff. 
Coleridge,  J.  D.,  63. 
Coleridge,  Sir  J.  T.,  21,  68,  286. 
Communion,  Holy,  207  ;  passim, 

357,  Appendix  II.,  385. 
Community  of  St.  Mary,  152ff., 

156  n.,  166  f.,  180  ff. 
Compton,  Lady  Alwyne,  295, 301  f. 
Confession,   practice   of,    65,   67 ; 

Declaration  on,  184  ff. 
Cotton,  Rev.  G.  E.  L.  (Bishop  of 

Calcutta),  5,  16. 


Cotton,  Dr.,  37. 
Courtenay,  Rev.  C.  L.,  21."). 
Cox,  Rev.  F.  H.,225. 
Crawley  of  Littlemore,  63. 
Cyprian,  St.,  195. 

Davidson,  Rev.  R.  T.  (Bishop  of 

Winchester),  210,  213,  215. 
Day,    Harriet    (Superior    of    St. 

Mary's   Home),    85,    130,    138, 

142. 

Dealtry,  Dr.,  25. 

Denison,  Archdeacon,  88,  174, 188. 
Diocesan  societies,  52. 
Dixon,  W.,  143,  220. 
Donaldson,  J.  W.,  7. 
Drew,  G.  H.,  vi.,  16. 
Duport,  Rev.  J.,  113. 
Dyson,   Rev.   Charles,   Rector  of 
Dogmersfield,  21,  22,  38,  49, 
236  f.,  286,  364. 

Mrs.,  letters  from,  31,  44. 

Miss,  286. 

Ecce  Homo,  289. 
Ecclesiastical  Polity,  193. 
Education,  elementary,  53. 
Elton,  Rev.  Edw.,  281,  284. 

Faber,  Rev.  F.  W.,  10. 

Fairer,  M.  T.,  4. 

Forbes,  A.  P.  (Bishop  of  Brechin), 

219. 

Fouque,  287,  367. 
Fowler,    Canon,   recollections  of, 

328  ff.,  360. 
Frank,  Dr.,  262. 
Freeling,  Rev.   G.  N.,  205,  282, 

357. 
Freeman,   Archdeacon   Philip,   4, 

10,  67,  189,  219,  228,  237. 
Freeman,  Rev.  Stephen,  2. 
French,  Rev.  T.  V.,  113  (Bishop 

of  Lahore). 
Froude,  J.  A.,  10. 
Froude,  Hurrell,  378. 
Furse,  Rev.  C.  W.,  190  n. 
Fust,  Sir  H.  Jenner,  76. 


398 


INDEX 


Galton,  Rev.  J.  L.,  188. 

Gerontius,  289  f. 

Gilbert,  Sister  Charlotte,  130,  137, 
138. 

Gilbertson,  Rev.  Lewis,  188. 

Gladstone,  Rt.  Hon.  W.  E.  G.,  97, 
106,  151  n.,  292,  355. 

Goodman,  Miss,  264. 

Gordon,  General,  220. 

Gordon,  Rev.  Robert,  188. 

Gorhani  judgement,  73,  75  ff., 
80  ff.,  95,  208  f.,  242. 

Grafton,  Father,  188. 

Gratry,  Pere,  377. 

Gray,  Robert  (Bishop  of  Cape- 
town), 113,  223  ff.,  227,  232  n., 
277. 

Grey,  Rev.  Hon.  Francis,  188. 

Hamon.  M.,  Cure"  de  S.  Sulpice, 

195,  199. 

Harperath,  Herr,  246,  250. 
Harvey,  Rev.  R.,  90. 
Hazen,  General,  252. 
Heath,  J.  M.,  63. 
Hedger,  Sister  Catherine,  140. 
Higgens,  Rev.  R. ,  recollections  of, 

29. 
Hills,  Rev.  G.  (Bishop  of  British 

Columbia),  113. 
Hobart,    Hon.    H.    L.,   Dean    of 

Windsor,  36. 

Hodgson,  K.  D.,  M.P.,  362. 
Hodson,  Rev.  G.  H.,  4. 
Hogan,  M.,  195. 
Holloway,  Rev.  E.  J.,  357. 
Home,  St.  Mary's,  143  ff.,  156  n., 

172. 
Home,   St.   Mary's,  branches  of, 

156  n. 

Hooker,  method  of,  193. 
Hospitium,  at  Cambridge,  43  f. 
Houblon,  Rev.  T.  Archer-,  59,  143. 
Houblon,  Rev.  T.  H.  Archer-,  220, 

295. 

Hozier,  Captain,  274. 
Humphry,  W.   G.,  Vicar  of  St. 

Martin's-in-the-Fields,  7,  65. 


Joan  of  Arc,  202,  345. 
John,  Lord  (Russell),  58. 
Johnston  &  Co.,  failure  of,  17  ff. 
Jones,   Rev.   W.    W.    (Bishop  of 
Capetown),  282. 

Keble,  Rev.  John,  21,  25,  26  n.,  31, 
32  f.,  35,  40  ff.,  48  f.,  63,  67  f., 
70,  74,  76  ff.,  87,  150 f.,  82, 127, 
137,  140,  154,  170,  208,  234  f., 
n.,  236  ff.,  286,  307,  339,  341, 
353,  364,  381. 

Keble,  Rev.  Thomas,  26  n.,  188, 
236. 

Keble,  Mrs.  John,  32,  41,  65,  234 ff. 

Kennedy,  George,  4,  16. 

King,  Rev.  E.  (Bishop  of  Lincoln), 
284. 

Knox-Little,  Canon  W.  J.,  303. 

Laity,  ministry  of,  393. 

Lawrence,  E.  J.,  4,  16. 

Lefroy,  Rev.  A.,  curate  at  Dog- 
mersfield,  22. 

Leighton,  Dr.,  Warden  of  All 
Souls,  281. 

Liddell,  Rev.  Hon.  Robert,  1S8. 

Liddon,  Canon  H.  P.,  vii.,  54,  90, 
100,  101,  104  ff.,  175  n.,  188, 
204,  209  f.,  212,  223,  227,  230, 
232,  235,  239  ff.,  243  f.,  277, 
280,  283  f.,  290  ff.,  297,  306  f. 

Literary  Churchman,  107,  116, 
118. 

Littlemore,  35,  41,  43,  146. 

Lloyd,  Canon  Charles,  282. 

Lock,  Rev.  Walter,  234. 

Lockhart,  Elizabeth  Crawford, 
Mother  Superior  at  Wantage, 
73,  86,  128  ff.,  133,  134,  208. 

Loftus,  Lord  Augustus,  245, 248. 

Longley,  Archbishop,  183, 225, 230. 

Lothair,  301. 

Loyd-Lindsay,  Col.  R.  (Lord 
Wantage),  122  f. 

Luard,  Rev.  H.  R.,  106,  189. 

Lyra  Innocentium,  238. 

Lyttelton,  Lord,  9. 


INDEX 


399 


MacCormac,  Dr.,  262. 
Mackarness,   Rev.  J.   F.    (Bishop 

of     Oxford),     212,     281,     282, 

355. 
Mackonochie,  Rev.  A.  H.,  of  St. 

Alban's,    Holborn,    90  n.,    100, 

188,  205  f.,  297. 
Macrorie,  Rev.  W.  K.  (Bishop  of 

Maritzburg),  114. 
Maddison,   Rev.  A.   R.,  recollec- 
tions of,  318  ff. 
Magazine  for  the  Young,  287. 
Manning,  Archdeacon  (Cardinal), 

vii,  25,  66,  69,  73,  95,  100,  130, 

132,  134,  137,  208. 
Marriott,    Rev.   Charles,   25,   43, 

48,  63,  154,  170. 
Martagnac,  Mons.  de,  254,  260. 
Mason,  Mrs.,  257. 
Mathison,  Rev.  W.  C.,  4. 
Mayow,  Rev.  M.  W.,  188. 
Medd,  Rev.  P.,  243. 
Meditations  for  Every  Day,  45. 
Melville,  Canon,  303. 
Michael's,    St.,    Schools,    156  n., 

165. 

Milman,  Rev.  R.  (Bishop  of  Cal- 
cutta), 92,  95,  143,  290. 
Milmau,  Miss,  232,  281. 
Modeste,  Pere,  202. 
Montalembert,  377,  386. 
Montgomery,  Dean  (Edinburgh), 

363. 

Mozley,  Rev.  J.  B.,  63,  65. 
Murray,  Rev.    F.   H.,   Rector  of 

Chislehurst,  188. 

Natal,  see  Colenso. 
Nelson,  Rev.  Dr.,  89. 
Newbolt,  Canon  W.  E.,  220. 
Newman,  J.  H.  (Cardinal),   127, 

238,  286,  367,  377. 
Noel,    Rev.    Montague,    175  n., 

176  n.,  220. 

O'Neill,  Rev.  S.  W.,  175  f.,  297. 
Osborne,  Miss,  157. 
Overstone,  Lord,  235. 


Oxford,  organization  of    the  dio- 
cese, see  Wilberforce,  51. 
Bishop,  see  Wilberforce. 
"Tracts,"  154. 

Page,  Cyril,  65. 

Palmer,  William,  31. 

Panel,  M.,  Cure  of  St.  Ouen,  336, 

373. 

Paradisus  Animtr,  360. 
"Parish   Journal"  (of  Wantage), 

72,  84,  89,  106,  115,  124  f,  130, 

142,  146,  222  n.,  235  n.,  298. 
Parish  organization,  387  ff. 
Parizet,  M.  1'Abbe,  200. 
Patrick,  Henrietta,  1  ;  see  Butler. 
Patrick,  Robert,  1,  26. 
Patterson,  Rev.  J.  C.,  63,  65. 
Pearson,  Miss,  254,  256  f. 
Penitentiary  Church  work,  132  ff. 
Phillpotts,  Bishop,  of  Exeter,  83. 
Pittar,  201. 

Ply,  M.  1'Abbe,  199,  201. 
Pollen,  J.  H.,  63,  65. 
Pollock,  Rev.  James,  220. 

Rev.  T.  B.,  of  St.  Alban's,  Bir- 
mingham, 220 ;  recollections, 
373  ff. 

Popham,  Rev.  J.,  90. 
Porter,  Reginald,  91,  220, 255,  257. 
Pott,  Rev.  Alfred,  Archdeacon  of 

Berks,  recollections,  50  ff. 
Powis,  Lord,  63. 
Puller,  C.,  M.P.,  63,  65. 
Purdue,  Rev.  G.,  90. 
Pusey,  Dr.  E.  B.,  35,  48,  82,  127, 

154,  170,  188,  191,  223,  228,  243, 

339,  353,  367,  371,  374,  383. 
Pnsey,  Philip,  80,  140. 

Raikes,  H.  C.,  M.P.,  336. 
Randall,  Archdeacon,  91. 
Randall,  Rev.  R.  W.,  Dean  of 

Chichester,  188. 

Randolph,  Dean,  of  Hereford,  65. 
Recit  d'une  Sceur,  169  n. 
"Retreats,"  33  f.,  35,  155,  167  f., 

201,  ±-'1. 


4<x> 


INDEX 


Riddell,  Rev.  James,  102  f.,  105, 

190  n. 

Riddell,  Hutton-,  E.  M.,  vii.,  363. 
Ridsdale  case,  209. 
Rodger,  Dr.,  274. 
Rose,  Rev.  Hugh  James,  154. 

Sacquet,  Captain,  273,  275,  276  n. 
Sadler,  Prebendary,  379. 
Sawyer,  Rev.   W.  G.,  90,  92  ff., 

143,  281,  284,  293,  312. 
Sedgwick,  Professor,  4. 
Sellon,  Miss,  128,  237. 
Selwyn,  Bishop,  113. 
Sermonsfor  Working  Men,  167, 237. 
Services,  the  Church's,  Appendix 

II. 

Seymour,  Rev.  R.,  292. 
Shadwell,  Alfred,  16. 
Shairp,   J.    C.,   Principal,  of   St. 

Andrews,  180  n. 
Sharp,  Rev.  John,  Vicar  of  Hor- 

bury,  188. 

Shuttleworth,  Sir  J.  K.,  63. 
Sintram,  see  Fouque. 
Sisterhood,  see  Wantage. 
Clewer,  140. 
Dr.  Pusey's,  127. 
School,  147  f. 
Sisterhoods,    see    Appendix    II., 

393  ff. 

Skinner,  Rev.  James,  188. 
Smyth,  Professor,  4. 
'Spiritual  Letters,'  Appendix  I. 
Stanley,  Dean,  21. 
Stanhope,  Banks,  362. 
Stanhope,    Right    Hon.   Edward, 

368. 

Stratford  de  Redclyffe,  Lord,  26. 
Street,  G.  E.,  62,  84. 
Stroud,  Mrs.,  91. 
Stuart,  228. 

Stubbs,  Professor  (Bishop  of  Ox- 
ford), 243. 
Swansea,  Lord,  362. 

Tait,  Bishop,  232. 
Taylor,  Canon  Isaac,  308. 


Temple,  Rt.  Rev.  F.,  Archbishop, 

242  n. 

Tennant,  Mrs.,  133. 
Thompson,  Dr.,  Master  of  Trinity, 

63,  251. 

Thomson,  Archbishop,  232. 
Tracts  for  the  Times,  287. 
Trench,  Rev.   R.   C.   (Archbishop 

of  Dublin),  63,  65,  308. 
Trinder,  Rev.  D.,  92,  142. 
Tween,  Mr.  Walter,  recollections 

of,  29. 

Vaughan,  Rev.  C.  J.  (Dean  of 
Llandaff),  4,  5,  6,  9,  26,  63. 

Venables,  Rev.  A.  R.  P.  (Bishop 
of  Nassau),  241  n. 

Vincent,  Rev.  T.,  48,  49,  63,  135. 

Waddington,  |M. ,  French  Ambas- 
sador, 332. 

Wantage,  characteristics  of,  26. 
the  living,  36. 
historical  associations,  36. 
'Black  Wantage,'  54,  55. 
described  in  the  Bristol  Times, 

55  f. 

an  ordination  at,  61. 
restoration  of  the  church,  84  f. , 

90. 

Sisterhood,  73,  127-173,  320. 
Wantage,  Lord(seeLoyd-Lindsay)- 
Wareside,  "recollections"  of  old 

parishioners,  29. 
account    of    the    parishioners, 

28. 
Weaver,   Rev.   J.    C.,   Curate   ut 

Wantage,  277. 
Webb,  Rev.  B.,  4,  63. 
WTelby,  Canon,  362. 
Wesley,  John,  340. 
Westminster  School,  3. 
White,  Rev.  G.  C.,  188. 
Wilberforce,    Henry,   25,  63,  65, 

130,  136  n.,  138  f. 
Samuel,  Bishop  of  Oxford,  50, 
51,  54,  57,  58,  60,  61,  63,  86, 
94,  288,  355. 


INDEX 


Wilkins,  Mrs.  Caroline,  vii.,279 
294,  302,  307,  310,  341  ff. 

Williams,  George,  Vicar  of  Ring- 
wood,  188. 

Williams,  Isaac,  33,  34,  63. 

Wilson,  Rev.  A.,  358. 

Wilson,  Rev.  R.  F.,  188. 

Wood,  Hon.  C.  L.  (Lord  Halifax) 
254,  257,  260,  386. 


401 

Woodward,  Rev.  H.  H.,  vi,  217. 
Woodyer,  H.,  62,  101,  112. 
Wordsworth,  Rev.  C.  (Biahop  of 
Lincoln),  113,  143. 

Yonge,  Miss,  239,  285,  338,  341. 
recollections  of  Wantage   286 
290. 


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